


His Music

by spaze_cat



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:51:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 68,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4362020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaze_cat/pseuds/spaze_cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2D has been kidnapped, spirited away to a great floating pile of painted garbage in the middle of the ocean. To him, the band is dead. Murdoc has long ago lost his sanity, and any remaining humanity was flushed down the drain the moment he locked 2D in his underwater cage. At least, that's what he thinks, until he finds musical lyrics written by the demon bassist himself. Beautiful, heartbreaking lyrics that remind 2D there's always more to Murdoc Niccals than meets the eye. 2D realizes Murdoc isn't lost, and if he's careful, and obedient, and doesn't push too hard, maybe he'll get Murdoc to reveal that part of himself he's rarely ever shown, but 2D knows is still there.</p><p>(2Doc fanfic, on Hiatus)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This fanfic has been posted on FFnet for quite a while, but now that I've got an account here, I might as well put it up. However, it's not just being put here for access. I will be continuing this fanfiction after the sudden Hiatus status that was put on it for such a long time. I've finally found all my notes for this story, and I intend on finishing it for you guys (and for myself as well). Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: I claim absolutely no rights to anything in this story, save for the idea to write it. 2D, Murdoc, Plastic Beach, and pretty much everything in here belong to Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett. All the song lyrics I use in this story belong to Gorillaz, unless otherwise stated.**

* * *

 

Today was the day. 2D was going to face his fears and escape Plastic Beach. Screw the whale. He didn't have to leave in a submarine (where the big, stupid marine mammal could easily swallow him whole). Maybe he'd find a boat. Or, if he could hide long enough outside somewhere, he'd just make one out of the plastic rubbish Plastic Beach was named for.

2D didn't exactly have a  _talent_ for making rafts out of rubbish, but hey, there was a first time for everything. And how did he know if he didn't try? Besides, it sounded better to him than sitting here all day, waiting for Murdoc to send for him (his voice, rather, because that's all he was to Murdoc apparently). Or for the whale to gobble him up.

2D stared at one of the walls in his underwater room, nervously licking the gap where his two front teeth should be. Yes, he'd just make a boat. Out of, er, well out of wood of course! Or maybe there would be a... a flat board for him to float off on. He could use his shirt as a sail! And he couldn't really be that far from land, could he? Murdoc had said they were the farthest point on Earth from any land mass, but surely 2D could hold his own for a few days before someone found him drifting on his makeshift boat, right?

... Yeah, he was doomed.

No! He was resolute in his decision! He had convinced himself yesterday, before going to bed. All he had to do was wait for Cyborg to bring him his lunch like she did every day at Noon sharp, and he'd ambush her, just like he planned.

But then... Cyborg  _was_ heavily armed. She could shoot bullets out her mouth for hell's sake! What was he thinking!?

But that's what the bucket of water was for, he reminded himself. Everyone, even 2D (who, putting it kindly, wasn't the brightest crayon in the box) knew electricity and water didn't mix. Not well, at least.

So, just get behind the door, wait for Cyborg to deliver him his meal, and splash her in the face! Brilliant! 2D wasn't a big-headed bloke, but he thought this might just be his best idea ever.

Confidence slightly renewed, the singer took a deep breath and got out of his bed. If there's one thing he's miss from all of Plastic Beach, it was the comfort of his bed. Murdoc had made sure to give a nice blanket, and a soft, welcoming mattress...

2D stopped in his tracks. He had to remind himself that the Murdoc he knew was gone. He'd been replaced by an even  _more_ evil version of himself. He was hardly even human anymore. The Satanic rituals and evil deeds and ego had all taken their toll on the bassist. He'd grown into something dark, something far beyond anyone's help.

Surely if 2D though his bed was always just the right amount of soft, and the covers provided just the right amount of warmth, it was by no fault of the slippery Satanist.

As 2D took his position by the door, his thoughts drifted to happier times. For instance, way back when Murdoc didn't have to kidnap 2D in order for him to sing in their band. Or the time when Murdoc _hadn't_  built a cyborg replacement for Noodle, and basically abandoned Russel. Or all those times Murdoc  _didn't_  lock up his singer in an underwater room with a bloomin'  _whale_ peeping in on him all the time.

_Bloody whales..._

No... There had been gentler times. Even if Murdoc had always been happy to give 2D a black eye or another bruise or scar to match the ones he already had... Even those times were still better than now. Now, all Murdoc was was a slithery old coward, taking shortcuts and killing people and making dirty deals to get his way. And this time, his way no longer seemed to include the majority of his band.

2D could remember a time when Murdoc had called them family.

 _I should have told him,_  he thought suddenly. _I should have told Murdoc how I felt about him. Maybe, just maybe, I could have prevented this._

But it was no time to think about yesterdays or should-have-been's. 2D was going to get as far away from this prison as possible. He could hear his victim heading towards his room now. So he crouched down and prepared to attack.

2D tensed as the soft  _click-clicking_ of Cyborg's boots drifted closer and closer to his room, doubt once again poisoning his confidence. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the bucket of water. Shaking, he crouched even further into the shadows beside his door, awaiting his chance.

The knob turned. The door cracked open. Cyborg's boot stepped into the room. 2D hoped the darkness would confused her, or at least conceal him from her vision for just a second longer. Cyborg took another step into the room, opening the door just enough to give 2D a good look at what lay beyond his room. He could just make out some metal catwalks for floors, and metal walls. And... That. Over there, that tube-looking thing. Was that a lift? Brilliant.

The Cyborg version of Noodle swung the door open just a crack more, already beyond suspicious, but it was all the singer needed. 2D jumped up and tossed the water at the Cyborg, yelling out his fear and desperation, his eyes closed.

After the initial splash, there was no noise. Thinking his plan had worked, 2D peeked through one eye to survey the damage.

Cyborg Noodle was standing in his doorway, drenched all down her front. Droplets of water slowly dripped down her face, running through her fake hair and falling to the floor with little plopping noises. One of her eyebrows was raised, as if to silently ask, "Really?"

Then she moved. Angrily throwing the small sandwich she'd brought 2D aside, a machine gun popped out of her arm with a  _click_ and she aimed it straight at the singer's face. 2D let out a (girlish) scream, diving for his bed and shoving himself under the covers as if it was bulletproof.

But the rain of bullets never came.

A shaking 2D slowly raised his head out from under his covers and glanced at Cyborg. She was standing still, her face frozen in a furious gaze. Then she gave a twitch, making 2D jump. Electricity buzzed as the wires in her head shorted out, frying her mechanical brain. With a last shudder, the Cyborg fell to her knees, holding her head before slumping to the ground.

2D blinked, trapped in a daze. He then smiled and made a noise only he could pull off. A small, "Ha!" accompanied by a proud smile. That smile sank as it slowly dawned on him what exactly he'd just done. He'd just taken out Murdoc's prized Cyborg. He was definitely in for it now...

Wait a minute, no he wasn't! He was gonna break out of here and leave that evil bassist behind. He wouldn't have to worry about what Murdoc wanted to do to him. He wasn't going anywhere near that bastard ever again.

Besides, he reasoned, it was Murdoc's fault for not making his robot waterproof even though they lived on a plastic island in the middle of the ocean.

2D jumped out of his bed for the last time and ran right out the open door of his prison. The only way to go seemed to be in that tube-like lift he'd seen earlier. He slammed his fist into the only button: Up.

The doors opened with a chime, and 2D stepped into the lift. Beside the doors was a panel with many different buttons. He scanned the names quickly (Roof, Master Bedroom, some Patio) and found the one marked "Entrance." Or, in 2D's case, Exit.

He pressed the button and then leaned against the wall of the lift. Nervousness began to eat away at him as the lift lurched upward. He felt like he did back in high school, when his friends would shoplift and he'd feel his blood boil with shame and guilt, even though he had never done it with them. He hated that feeling, the fear of being caught doing something even if what you're doing isn't technically wrong. He hadn't been stealing back then and he was only escaping his kidnapper now, so he shouldn't feel like he was breaking the rules.

But upon shoving his feelings of shame deeper within him, he realized that there were plenty of things to fear. What if he ran right into Murdoc on his way out? What if the door was locked? What if he couldn't find or build a boat?

He tried to put these questions aside. There was no going back now, anyways, and even though these were perfectly reasonable things to worry about, there was no used fretting over them if he couldn't do anything about it. The lift was moving, and there was no way to stop it now.

Suddenly, though, it did.

2D was thrown without warning against the opposite wall as the lift abruptly skidded to a halt.

"What the-?! No!" 2D cried, his blood beginning to churn. The single light bulb in the lift twitch in and out of life, introducing darkness to 2D's "Steadily Increasing List of Things to Fear"

1) Murdoc  
2) Broken Lifts  
3) Dying  
4) Murdoc  
5) Whales  
6) Darkness  
7) Murdoc

2D frantically began to press all the buttons. Anywhere on Plastic Beach was better than being trapped in an elevator. He bit his lip with the teeth next to his missing front ones. His fingers blurred as he jammed the different level choices.

"No," he whispered, "No, no, no!"

Just then, the lift lurched once more. It rose instead of fell, which 2D thought was at least one good thing. He sat down this time, though, for good measure.

The lift stopped at the second-to-highest level, marked "Study - Studio." The doors shifted open with an innocent  _ding_ , as if it  _hadn't_ almost heartlessly taken his life. Abandoning all hope of proper escape and just happy to be out of that cursed lift, 2D toppled onto the floor of "Study - Studio" and kissed the smelly carpet beneath him.

The lift doors closed behind him, and the singer was brought back to his senses. Hadn't be been trying to escape? Well, that plan was surely ruined now. And it hadn't been going as bad as his plans usually did - that is, until that stupid lift broke on him. The way he saw it, getting slapped around by Murdoc was far better than death.

2D stood up from the carpet (which, like everything else on Plastic Beach, smelled as one would expect - like melting plastic and fish) and took a look around.

Before him a few paces was a wooden writing desk. A feather quill and parchment sat waiting to be used on its surface. Along with those fairly reasonable supplies, there also happened to be a giant salmon colored squid on Murdoc's desk as well. And it was sporting a rather fashionable sailor's hat. 2D blinked and moved on. This kind of stuff no longer phased him.

In fact, the whole room was filled to the brim with all manners of knickknacks, strange collectables, spills and messes, piles of movies, and stacks of papers that desperately needed filing. A bookcase was tucked into the wall to the right of the lift, and beside that bookcase was another door.

2D knew his escape plan had failed, or perhaps he'd forgotten about it. But either way, he figured he couldn't possibly get in any more trouble than he was already in for. What with the repairs Murdoc would have to make to his precious Noodle copy, and the fact that 2D was effectively snooping around his study.

So, 2D thought, it couldn't hurt to take a look around. He could get to know the place a little before he was discovered, punished, and sent back to wait in that horrid underwater room where the whale could get to him. Be free while he still could, as it were.

He went straight for the door beside the bookcase, wondering where it would take him. It opened to a well-lit room. Wide windows allowed 2D to, for the first time in days, get a good glimpse of the sky.

But there was so much more than that in this room. With a jolt, 2D remembered what else was supposed to be on this level, and a smile came to his face. So, this was the recording studio that Murdoc had built right in to Plastic Beach.

Amplifiers and outlets and instruments of all sorts had been scattered around strategically in the room. Cords lay in tangled heaps, connecting machines to each other. Hundreds of little knobs could be tuned to any exact sound you could dream up. Guitars and basses lined the walls, speakers sat waiting to pump music on full blast. And, 2D observed with an appreciative squeal, keyboards of all sorts and sizes were strewn about everywhere.

As hard as 2D tried to ignore them, the memories flooded in. A tiny Noodle jamming away on her guitar. Russel laughing at Murdoc's drunken impersonations of celebrities as he absentmindedly tapped his symbols to an unheard beat. Himself, gripping a mic with shaking hands as they recorded their very first song, Ghost Train. Back when Paula Cracker had still been their guitarist. Back when he hadn't been sure of how his voice sounded, despite constant complements. In the end, he remembered, it was Murdoc who'd convinced him to stop worrying about it.

"Shut up, face-ache," he'd said, "If your voice is good enough for my band, it's good enough for the world to hear. Now stop looking so glum, nobody likes an emo ponce."

2D found it funny that he'd still prefer the Murdoc who constantly insulted and attacked him than the Murdoc who kidnapped and planned to use him.

He perked up at a faint sound, coming from below him. It sounded like a door slamming, but he couldn't be sure. Sometimes Plastic Beach just made those kinds of noises. Metallic grinding sounds or rumbling, distant noises like rolling waves. It was, after all, a great heap of trash. Whatever this noise was, it snapped him out of his trance.

2D didn't know how much time he'd have left before he was discovered, but he figured he'd probably have the most fun in here. The studio was overflowing with keyboards just waiting for him to play. God, how long had it been since he'd even picked up an instrument? Far, far too long, he decided, choosing one of the smaller ones that lay perched on the edge of yet another desk.

The singer made a grab for it, but stopped himself when he saw what lay beside this particular keyboard. Music sheets, and tons of them. There were a few stacks of them. One stack seemed to be just blank pages, the music not written on them yet. There were two other stacks beside this one that looked like they were being worked on or reviewed.

Was this the music Murdoc had written for that new album he'd been talking about?

It couldn't hurt to look, 2D reasoned with himself. After all, he was going to see them anyways, right? He was the singer, and unless these were all instrumental pieces (which was probably not the case, since Murdoc went through the trouble of kidnapping a  _singer_ , after all), he thought it was his right to view them.

Before he could convince himself otherwise, he reached for the first sheet on the second stack, careful to remember which pile it had been on so as not to mess up Murdoc's careful organization.

The song in his hands had been heavily abused. It was going through some sort of identity crisis. Its name had been crossed out and rewritten so many times that it probably didn't know who it was anymore. If it had been anything to start with. To find out, 2D glanced down at the lyrics, which had also been fairly scribbled on, and began to read.

 _Distant stars_  
_Come in black or red_  
_I've seen their worlds_  
_Inside my head_

 _They connect_  
_With the fall of man_  
_They breathe you in_  
_And dive as deep as they can_

As usual, Murdoc was right to boast of his skills. His songwriting was impeccable, the lyrics full of meaning and yet subtle like mist. They demanded nothing of the listener but for them to listen, and even that seemed like just a suggestion in this song.

2D glanced at the notes on the music sheet, trying to pick up the tune of the music. Within seconds he was humming a medium-paced melody that rose and fell like the waves on Plastic Beach's shoreline. After a few seconds, 2D adjusted the hum. He slowed down the tempo and lowered the pitch, making the melody a relaxing and softer tune than it was designed to be.

He hummed his new tune to himself for a bit before he had it down, then he looked back at the lyrics. Waggling his finger to keep the time, he started the song over so he could sing the lyrics.

" _Distant stars,_ " he sang, " _Come in black or red... I've seen their worlds,_ " a slight adjustment to the length of pause between the lyrics here, " _Inside my head..._ " He drew out the ending of that word, letting his vocal chords do what they did best.

Pretty soon he was lost to the world, changing the song just enough so that it went from sounding slightly upbeat and ensuring to downright melancholy and dream-like. It fit the words perfectly, he thought. Then he took a look at the chorus.

 _Our love._  
_Is broken._

They were so simple, just a handful of lyrics that he could hold with one hand. Yet even as he drew them out to fit his custom melody, they always read the same in his head. As if someone was saying them out loud, softly, whispering them into nothing. For a second, the song stopped being a song. It was just words, the melody and tempo gone but the music anywhere but.

"Broken," he said, speaking them out like he read them, "Our love... is broken..."

 _Murdoc,_  he thought.  _Murdoc wrote this._

How? How could someone so filled with hate and evil write something this beautiful? How could Murdoc write these five little words that seemed to touch him right where he thought he'd shut him out from forever?

 _Maybe,_  thought 2D _, if he can still write something like this... Maybe he's not entirely gone yet. Maybe he still feels something._

Even though 2D wanted to know who the song was for, he knew it didn't matter. If these lyrics were anything to go by, Murdoc wasn't as big of a heartless monster as 2D thought. There was still a part of him that  _felt_  something, and that idea, that beautiful little spark of hope was enough to bring a warm smile to 2D's face.


	2. He'd Listen

"What in Satan's name are you doing?"

2D jumped and spun around, bumping into the desk with his bum. All the music sheets fluttered to the ground in flurry. All except the one in 2D's hands, clutched to his chest as if he thought it belonged to him. If by some miracle Murdoc hadn't already been mad enough to end his life, he'd probably just crossed the line.

The bassist was standing in the door, breathing heavily, eyes wide and filled with fury. His clawed hands were clenched into fists, and he looked very,  _very_ mad.

"Get. Out. Now." Murdoc hissed through gritted teeth, pronouncing each word carefully so the dullard couldn't possibly mess it up.

"Murdoc-"

" **Now!** " he bellowed, making an already trembling 2D jump again and hurry towards him.

"Yessir," he mumbled, hiding his head as he waited for the blow to come. When a hand gripped his shoulder, he let out a whimper.

"What's that you've got in your hand?" asked Murdoc. The anger was still there, but there was also a note of genuine curiosity to his voice. And was it just 2D or did he almost sound... worried?

"Er, i-it's a song," stuttered 2D, trying to prepare himself for a broken jaw or black eye.

Murdoc snatched the piece of paper from 2D's hands and held it up to his eyes. 2D dared to glance up at him, watching his expression shift from angry to something... vulnerable. Which was shocking to see on Murdoc's face. Was it sadness? Fear? But it was only there for a tiny, tiny moment. Right after that the anger came back ten fold.

"You were snooping through my studio?" yelled Murdoc, snarling as he grabbed the front of 2D's shirt and yanked him closer.

"I didn't mean to!" 2D cried pitifully, "I was jus'-"

"You were just what?" snarled Murdoc, growling like an animal through his gritted, sharp teeth.

"I didn't mean to snoop!" 2D cried, curling up defensively, "I was only trying to escape, I swear!"

Murdoc angrily shoved the singer against the wall of his studio. 2D's head rammed into the wall, and for a moment his vision swam with black.

"Listen here, face-ache," Murdoc hissed in 2D's face. 2D was close enough to smell what he'd had for breakfast. Alcohol and a cigarette. "You may be living here right now, but you're no guest. I told you to stay inside your cage and you  _will_ listen to me!"

2D was in no position to argue, part of him knew this. But he was mad, and confused, and scared, and even 2D can be pushed over the edge. Once you're pushed over the edge, you do things a normal, sane, rational person would never do. Talking back to Murdoc Niccals while he was holding you by your collar a foot above the ground with one arm was certainly one of the things only someone pushed beyond the edge could ever think of doing.

"No,  _you_ listen 'ere you- you, monster!" 2D screamed, "You can't just kidnap someone and shove 'em down a hole! I 'ave my rights, y'know! An' one way or another, I'm gonna get off this stupid island an' away from you-"

 _Wham!_ The blow came down hard against his cheek, sending his mind spiraling. Too soon after the first came another, from the opposite side. He vaguely felt that he was sliding down the wall, collapsing against the carpet of the studio. He felt a weight press against his chest, making it hard to breathe.

"You've gotten a bit  _brazen_ , haven't you?" Murdoc sneered from somewhere above him. "You've already forgotten the rules. Well, I'll just have to punch them back into your thick skull, won't I?"

Only this time, it wasn't a fist that connected with 2D's jaw, but a boot. 2D's shut his eyes tight and tried to curl up, but a sudden force slammed into his stomach, and he struggled for air. Murdoc was on top of him, pinning down his shoulders so he couldn't move.

"Muds," he choked quickly, trying to get in more than a single word, "I didn't mean-"

"Shut up!" Murdoc yelled, punching him again.

Suddenly, 2D thought of the song he'd been singing not a few minutes earlier. With each resounding  _crack_ of Murdoc's fist against his cheek bones and jaw, the lyrics came to him. They were like little pieces of Murdoc, the last pieces that still shone with something more than evil. Something more than what he was showing right now.

 _There's nothing you can say to him_  
_He is an outer heart_  
_And the space has been broken_

 _Such a pretty song,_  he thought. His mind was doing these funny little flips and dips, like it was on some glittery roller coaster. Or like he'd taken one too many of his old headache pills again.  _Whack._ Whoop, there goes another hit. Funny, he couldn't really feel them anymore.

_I should sing the chorus. It's so pretty, I have to sing it..._

" _Broken..._ " His voice was raspy, very wet due to the blood in his mouth. Murdoc didn't seem to hear him, so after another punch he sang a bit louder. " _Our love... Is broken..._ "

A tear slid down 2D's cheek, stinging his swelling injuries. Why was he crying? The song was pretty, not sad. No, wait, it was kind of sad. He just couldn't remember why.

His head lolled to the side, and he inhaled the scent of the carpet. No melting plastic. No fish. It smelled just like he remembered, like a recording studio should. A mix of dust and sweat and old wood, even though there was none of that to be found here. He loved that smell. It smelled like music.

Was it just him or was it easier to breathe? He tried to move his head, but everything throbbed, like a headache, only there was no pain. He was beyond that now. He tried moving his arms, his legs, but they didn't listen to him. He wasn't sure why.

 _Broken,_ he sang, but in his head this time, because for some reason no words came out of his mouth.

_2D... Is broken..._

* * *

 

Pain. So much pain. He'd like to say it was unlike anything he'd ever felt, but that wouldn't be true. He had felt this much pain before, plenty of times. He was used to feeling it, but the thing about pain is that you can experience it a hundred times, and still not build up an immunity to it.

"My head..." he groaned. Well, more like his face.  _And_ his head. All of that business above his neck.

2D did what he usually did when he woke up in this amount of pain. He laid in his bed and complained silently about all the places that hurt.

His left eye was throbbing, probably bruised. Fantastic! Oh, and was that rusty taste in his mouth blood? Brilliant! And wasn't it just  _amazing_ how it hurt to move?

2D kicked the covers off to emphasize his anger (to no one, really, since he was alone in the room), but his limbs got tangled in the blanket. He yelped, thinking the blankets had come to life to eat him, and struggled with the beast. In his panic he fell off the bed, landing on his arse.

He was glad no one was there to see it. It's sort of hard to be taken seriously when you're battling a blanket for your life.

He freed himself from the blanket and took a look around. He was surprised to see the inside of his underwater bedroom.  _Cage_ , he reminded himself. Even Murdoc had admitted it was nothing more than a cage.

How'd he get back here? Somehow the thought of Murdoc carrying him bridal style back to his room and gently tucking him into bed after beating his arse unconscious didn't make much sense to him. And he'd broken the Cyborg...

Broken...

2D suddenly remembered back when his mind had gone all fuzzy, when he'd been hit enough times in the head for his thoughts to be tangible, like sparkly fluttery bits (Murdoc had hit him hard). He'd started _singing_. He was sure of it. He'd started singing, and as soon as he had, Murdoc had stopped hitting him.

'Course, that didn't make much sense either. But when it came to Gorillaz, few things did.

2D heaved himself up off the floor and headed over to the bathroom that was connected to his room. He opened the door and flicked on the light. He went for the mirror and immediately wished he hadn't.

He looked like he'd been run over by a car. He'd been right about his left eye, it was heavily bruised, swollen to where it was stuck on almost-shut. Thankfully, his nose didn't seem to be broken, though it hurt just like everything else. His skin was dotted with purple bruises all along his jaw and cheeks.

It wasn't that 2D cared that he looked like a piano had been dropped onto his face, it was the fact that whenever he did look at his injuries, it seemed to make the pain more intense. He hurriedly turned away from the mirror and tried to pretend that his face wasn't as swollen and bruised as it had looked.

Stupid Murdoc. Stupid Plastic Beach. Stupid  _whales_. Stupid song...

2D gently splashed cold water onto his face, hissing when his wounds burned in protest. He gave a frustrated pout and ignored the pain, trying to reduce the swelling.

More than anything he was angry that his plan hadn't worked. Even though it was to be expected, it still irked him to know that once again, Murdoc was victorious. And this time, he'd lost far more than his dignity. He'd lost his one (already shoddy) chance at fooling Murdoc and escaping Plastic Beach. Now that he'd proven to be able to be capable of pulling off some semblance of a plan, Murdoc wasn't going to take any chances. He'd step up security, or feed him less, or make Cyborg waterproof.

He'd probably already planned for all three.

With a sigh, 2D grabbed a cloth and soaked it in cold water. He wrung it out and walked back to his bed, carefully laying back down. Then he placed the cold, wet cloth on his face, hoping it would help.

If he wanted to escape, he'd have to think of something even more clever than his last plan. Considering it had taken him at least a week of careful calculations (sessions on the toilet), his new plan would take a while to come to fruition.

Of course, he'd only really have to do that if he still wanted to escape, and unfortunately, that decision was no longer crystal clear. What he'd seen written on that fateful music sheet had stopped him in his tracks. Before he read those lyrics he truly believed Murdoc was a monster beyond anyone's help. Now, he just didn't know.

Those lyrics meant something. They were written with purpose.  _For_ someone. He could just tell. Call it musician's instinct. You didn't go more than a decade as a singer without developing a skill for such things.

2D knew that music ( _real_ music that is) is a sort of glimpse into someone's soul. Each song is a piece of the musician himself. It's a projection, a message, a signal to anyone who hears it, to feel a certain feeling, to connect. It's a language, designed by humans, for humans. And if Murdoc could still make real music, if he could still project his inner soul to the world, maybe all he needed now was someone to hear it.

So maybe his next objective shouldn't be to make a better escape plan. Maybe he should play nice, sing for Murdoc, get back on his good side (now that he'd established that, although weak and beaten down itself, Murdoc  _did_  have a good side somewhere deep,  _deep_ within him).

Then he'd do what he did best. He'd listen.


	3. He Saw Himself

It hadn't taken very long for 2D to realize there was almost nothing to do on Plastic Beach. For a captive, at least.

Murdoc had provided him with some of his old stuff back from Kong (presumably  _before_ he heartlessly burned their home/recording studio to the ground), but what good are a giant paper fan, an amputee dog statue, and a life-sized Spiderman for, other than decoration?

2D guessed it was fun going through stuff he hadn't seen for years, but it quickly got old. He found a stack of paper in a desk drawer during his search and thought he'd try his hand at drawing.

It didn't going so well.

He continued looking through what Murdoc had salvaged from Kong. Only when he'd gone through everything else, when the room was messy and he was just about to actually get  _excited_ at the prospect of tidying up, did he find it.

His banjo.

He greeted the instrument like an old friend, giggling excitedly and hugging it to his chest. He even caught up with it, telling it stories of everything he'd been doing since they'd last been together.

It took him a lot while longer than he'd care to admit to remember banjos can't talk.

Instead, he took the instrument lovingly into his arms and plucked a string. The high, sweet note sounded like delicious candy to his ears, and after going so long without music, he found he was desperate for it. He began to make up a tune, a very simple melody just to celebrate the fact that he had  _music_ back in his life.

Soon, though, that simple tune turned into the song that had changed everything. Reading it had given him a black eye, singing it may have just saved his teeth.

It sounded... different on the banjo, but not bad. It took him a while to figure out how to even play it, but as soon as he got into the rhythm, the song came to life in his hands. He began to sing the lyrics that were forever burned into his mind, and paused when he reached a certain part.

" _They breathe you in_ ," he sang, " _And dive as deep as they can..._ "

He liked that part the best so far. If he closed his eyes he could picture a beautiful scene that brought those lyrics to life. It almost looked like a painting. Rough strokes of color depicted Murdoc and a mysterious figure that was silhouetted, with no definite features. They were deep underwater, enveloped in blue. Strangely, they didn't have to hold their breath, instead inhaling the water itself like it was as good as air. Their hands were clasped together as they swam, diving deeper and deeper, locked in a stare filled with eternal understanding.

How 2D wished that silhouetted figure was him...

2D was surprised at the sudden thought, but he couldn't deny it. He'd developed a thing for Murdoc that dated way back to Demon Days. It had just sort of happened, the feelings suddenly coming into existence without much explanation.

Of course, he'd never told a soul. There was nothing wrong about being bisexual, but it was an entirely different story to be gay for Murdoc Niccals.

Murdoc, the Egoist, the Satanist, the demon who knocked him in and out of a coma, and who knocked his eyes back into his head. Whose given his robot-slave Noodle's name. Who still continued to beat him black and blue. Who kidnapped him and brought him to this smelly garbage heap in the middle of the ocean and locked him up with a whale.

A  _whale_. 2D  _loathed_  whales, mainly because his fear for them was as strong and deep-rooted as his love for music. It would make all the sense in the world if he loathed the person who locked him up with the whale as well. But he  _didn't_. All 2D wanted to do was grab him by the back of his stupid, greasy head and kiss him so hard he wouldn't be able to tell the difference between night and day.

People would question his sanity if he ever said anything, and 2D didn't need anymore of that. They did that enough already.

2D shook his head to stop the flow of useless thoughts from filling his mind. He'd been over this with himself, countless times. He'd given himself time to grieve over the fact that Murdoc would never love him, and that time was long gone.

So he dusted off the thought and put it back on a mental shelf located deep within the confines of his mind. Then he closed a mental door and locked it with mental locks. He refused to touch that locked door with a mental twenty-foot pole.

Sighing, he set the banjo down beside his bed and hugged his knees up to his chest, willing himself to think of his new mission. That's right, he'd given himself a new directive, a new plan to follow. He would analyze the new songs and slowly piece together the man Murdoc had become.

So far, there was only one song he'd seen in full. For simplicity, he decided to call it "Broken."

He'd already started on "Broken," what with all the pretty visions and thoughts of romance, but there had to be more to it than that. When 2D thought about the lyrics alone, there was of course the obvious.

 _Broken_  
_Our love_  
_Is broken_

There was something wrong, something tainted with Murdoc's love for this woman. Or maybe it was the relationship itself. Did the girl not love him the same way? Did he drive her away with his alcoholism and general evilness? Or maybe he abuses her?

2D thought of his black eye, the fists slamming into his cheekbones and jaw. Murdoc was known for picking on those smaller and weaker than him. Maybe it wasn't entirely out of the question that he was doing that to his girlfriend.

But he couldn't prove that. In fact, he couldn't prove anything. All his intuition told him was something general. Something like, "Murdoc is in love with a girl and for some reason, this love is 'broken.'" Which was pretty vague when you think about it.

It was proving difficult trying to solve this puzzle when he only had one piece.

It was then 2D realized he'd have to wait for Murdoc to trust him again. Only then would he be able to get his hands on another song, and get his hands on another piece of Murdoc.

* * *

 

Murdoc hadn't said a single word to him in twenty-six days. 2D knew because he'd counted. He'd  _counted_. The bastard had left him with so little to do that counting the days until he heard Murdoc's voice again had become his favorite pastime.

Sure, he had his banjo. But when you can only do  _one_ thing for fun, that one thing soon becomes as boring as anything else. After twenty-six days of plucking at the thing, he'd grown tired of it. People, even captives, need a little variety.

What he really wanted was to see Murdoc's new songs.

"Face-ache!"

2D nearly jumped out of his skin, head whipping around to where the voice had come from. It was then that he noticed the small black rectangle perched against the corner of his room. A speaker. Of course.

"You're not dead, are you?" Murdoc said.

"Not yet," said 2D coldly.

His food rations had been cut to almost dangerously low levels ever since his escape attempt, and he'd probably lost about five pounds. Murdoc beating him 'til he saw stars was one thing (sadly that was  _usual_ behavior for him), but slowly starving him to death had crossed the line. 2D's mood had grown as sour as the gross taste in his mouth. The last thing on his mind was to play nice for Murdoc. Murdoc should feel lucky that 2D was even responding to him.

"What do you mean 'not yet'?" Murdoc growled, "I ain't trying to kill you, dullard."

"Then what the hell have you been doing, you pompous windbag!?" 2D snarled, glaring daggers up at the speaker as if Murdoc could see him through it. "You've been treating me like a dirty criminal! Cutting my rations and leaving me in total isolation as punishment! Even for you, that's pushing it!"

"Cutting your rations...?" The sentence was so quiet that 2D wondered if he was meant to hear it. A moment later, Murdoc seemed to dismiss whatever thought process he was on and returned to a normal voice. "Anyway, look, 2D. Today's your lucky day. I've, er, 'invited' a few guest artists to Plastic Beach for the album. We're going to record 'To Binge' today."

_To Binge? Is that another one of the songs? Why is it called that? Does it have anything to do with this mystery woman Murdoc was in love with?_

It was pathetic, really, how quickly he replaced memories of his abuse with questions about the new song.

"Go take a shower," said Murdoc, "I'm sure you could use one. And wear something nice, will you?"

There was a faint  _click_ , and then Murdoc was gone. 2D stood in a daze for a while, absorbing all of this new information.

So, if 2D had this right, he was going to get to leave the cage, for the first time in almost a month. He was going to meet and collaborate with artists to sing a song, and-

A slow smile grew on his face. He was going to make  _music_.  _New_  music! With something  _other_ than a banjo!

He leapt into the air and gave a celebratory whoop, punching the air with an enthusiastic fist. Then he remembered what Murdoc said and hurried to get ready.

He took a long shower, letting the hot water wash away all his worries, his anger, and his impatience down the drain. He patted himself dry, then walked butt naked into his bedroom to get dressed.

What? It wasn't like anyone was  _watching_  him strut around in the buff.

He pulled on a pair of clean jeans and a shirt, excluding the underwear (what the guests didn't know wouldn't hurt them, and he went commando more often than not anyways). He then slipped on some socks (he made sure they matched so Murdoc couldn't make some special needs joke about him) and laced up a pair of high-top Converse.

He paced for a few minutes in his room, eager to be let out for the first time in eternity. To distract himself until the time came, he decided to go make sure he looked okay.

That was a mistake.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen himself in the mirror in a while or anything. After all, he'd just taken a bath. It was just...

This was the first time he really  _saw_ himself.

His bruises were faint now, but still there. His cheeks were a bit sunken in from missing so many meals. His skin seemed to have gotten more pale, almost translucent. When he lifted his shirt up, he could count his ribs.

Did Murdoc know he'd been draining the life out of 2D ever since he got here? Locking him away, feeding him just enough to live, beating him for trying to break free, then pretending he didn't exist. He wondered if Murdoc would notice the dead look in his eyes when he went to see him in a few minutes.

He wondered if Murdoc would care.

He slowly backed away from the mirror in the bathroom and sat back down on his bed.  _I will not cry. Crying is weakness and he will smile, he will_  smile  _when he sees I've done it._

As he waited to be released from his prison, he sang "Broken."


	4. Touched

There were footsteps in the hallway. A moment later, and for the first time in twenty-seven days, the door to 2D's cage was opened. Cyborg stood in the doorway, a gun protruding from her fingertips, the barrel of which was pointed straight at 2D's heart.

Fear was a common emotion for 2D, what with all the pain he'd had to endure from Murdoc ever since, well, the day he met him. But that fear was usually of Murdoc, of being  _beaten_  by Murdoc, and whales. And he'd somewhat gotten  _used_ to being afraid of those things.

If he were honest, he hadn't quite gotten used to guns being pointed in his direction by replica cyborgs.

"W-what are you doing?" he stuttered, scooting as far away from the door as possible. "G-guns are dangerous, y'know. You could hurt someone!"

Cyborg slowly raised her head so he could see the pure malice in her eyes, and a terrifying, inhuman grin spread across her face. She looked like something out of a horror movie, like a creepy doll that's come to life just to kill you. Her smile was enough of an answer for 2D.

It seemed to say, " _I know..._ "

2D was glad he'd already emptied his bladder not five minutes before. Otherwise he'd probably have to change pants.

Suddenly, the Cyborg made a peculiar noise. Very... well, robotic. Like two static-filled tones that made it sound like she was trying to speak. 2D peeked at her from between his shaking fingers. She repeated the noise, coupled with a gesture for him to come over. It sounded something like  _ee-ah_. She'd lost the dark smile, and the gun was lowered. Maybe she was just messing with him before?

"W-what?" 2D ventured cautiously.

" _Ee-ah_ ," she said for a third time, frowning in annoyance. She gestured again, and then 2D realized she was telling him to follow her.

"S-sure thing crazy robot lady," he muttered fearfully, slowly unfolding his limbs from the brace position he'd been in and scooting off his bed. When he left the room, Cyborg shut the door behind him.

They walked to the lift in silence. 2D tried to keep his distance from her, but that became harder once they were in the cramped lift. She pressed the button labelled "Master Bedroom" while  _he_ pressed himself against the wall, hardly daring to breathe. When she slowly turned to look at him, an unseen eyebrow raising in question, he let out a pathetic whimper. She smirked at his fear, and turned to look back toward the lift's doors.

This time, the lift didn't stop. It went straight to its destination without fail.  _Probably terrified of Cyborg_ , thought 2D.  _It wouldn't dare mess around with_ her _in the lift._

The doors slid open with a soft  _ding_ , and 2D stumbled out onto a metal floor. Their feet made clanking noises as they walked towards a closed, water-tight hatchet. When they stopped in front of it, Noodle rapped on the door with her knuckles, creating a sound that 2D could only describe as metallic.

A low groan came from the other side of the door, and 2D stiffened. He'd spent the past twenty-seven days doing nothing but think about how much he wanted to see Murdoc, but now that he was about to, he found himself nervous.

"What is it?" Murdoc groaned from beyond the door. He sounded like he'd just woken up. "Oh, right. Give him something to eat, will you? I'll be out in... in a bit."

Noodle clipped her heels together and saluted her master, even though he couldn't see her, and gestured once again for 2D to follow her. She turned around and began walking down a separate hallway 2D hadn't noticed. At the end of the hallway was a door that led into the only kitchen on Plastic Beach.

The kitchen was wide and lit with sunshine that streamed in from large and plentiful windows. Connected to the kitchen was a huge living room. Two large and fluffy couches were positioned perpendicular to the giant flat-screen television that was built into the wall.

A whole collection of movies and video games sat collecting dust on shelves underneath the TV. 2D recognized a few of them, and realized that Murdoc had saved a lot more than he'd let on of their old possessions.

But with no one to watch or play them, they looked a bit useless. Which of course brought up an important question.

Why had Murdoc saved them?

" _Ee-ah_."

2D turned at the now familiar sound, snapping out of his thoughts. Cyborg was standing by the open fridge, waiting impatiently.

"Oh," 2D said dumbly, walking over to her. He glanced into the fridge.

At least half of the space was filled with bottles and cans of assorted alcohol. The other half appeared to be normal groceries. Fruits, vegetables, deli meat and cheese, milk, eggs, and more. 2D wondered how Murdoc had bought all this stuff. It wasn't like there was a grocery store on Plastic Beach. Murdoc must have traveled very far to stock this place.

Either that or he just sent the Cyborg.

The robot girl reached into the fridge and grabbed a package of ground beef. She gestured something to 2D, sort of nudging the package at him, a question in her eyes, but the singer couldn't tell what she wanted.

"I'm sorry, I-I don't, er..." he muttered, wringing his hands together.

Noodle shook her head and waved her hand. This, 2D understood.  _Never mind._

"Right," he said.

She shooed him out of the kitchen and he went to go sit on the couch. When she saw this, she gave a bleak thumbs-up. Then she turned her back on him to do whatever she would with the ground beef. He wasn't entirely sure what it was he was waiting for, but if Cyborg told him to wait, he'd  _wait_.

A few minutes later, a delicious smell began to waft into the living room from the kitchen, and 2D's stomach audibly growled. He realized then that Cyborg was cooking something for him, which should have been obvious since Murdoc had asked her to do exactly that not ten minutes ago.

Just then, the door that led to the hallway with the lift burst open. Giving 2D no time to prepare mentally, Murdoc entered the room wearing nothing but a pair of tight briefs. All at once, 2D's emotions were scattered. Fear, desire, anger, love, disgust. He felt like he was bursting at the seams with emotions, too many to deal with at once.

At first, Murdoc didn't seem to notice him. He walked right for the kitchen and opened the fridge to grab a beer, ignoring Cyborg completely. He easily popped the cap off with his sharp teeth and spat it skillfully into the sink. Then he downed the whole bottle in twenty seconds flat.

He grabbed another and once again popped its cap off and spat it into the sink. But this time he turned to make his way down into the living room. He glanced at 2D, did a double take, and then stared down at the floor as if he hadn't noticed him. Then he looked up at a wall, pausing in his steps, a confused look on his face. His head snapped back to 2D, and his eyes went wide.

2D shrunk back against the couch, wondering if Murdoc had simply forgotten he'd summoned him to sing today.

"What the bloody hell happened to you?" growled Murdoc.

"W-what?" 2D stammered. What  _happened_ to him? What was that supposed to mean?

Instead of answering, Murdoc set his beer bottle down on a coffee table and sat down on the couch beside 2D. Then, as if he hadn't confused 2D enough, he did something that made 2D almost choke on his own breath.

He gently reached out and touched 2D's face.

His hand took the bottom of 2D's chin and lifted his face so Murdoc could examine him. 2D couldn't move. In fact, he wasn't sure he was breathing.

"You haven't been eating," remarked Murdoc.

"You 'aven't been feeding me," 2D said, though not with malice. He sounded like he was trying to remind Murdoc of what he'd done, instead of accusing him.

It had gotten very quiet. Too quiet. Something was missing. The background noise; Cyborg cooking. Where had the sizzling, clanking, and scraping noises gone? 2D shifted his gaze until he was looking over Murdoc's shoulder, into the kitchen.

Cyborg had stopped moving.

She was just standing there, hunched over the sink, her entire body frozen.  _Everyone_ was frozen. Murdoc's hand was frozen under his chin, Cyborg was frozen at the sink, and 2D was frozen in fear. Everything was frozen except his pulse. 2D didn't know why exactly, but his heart was the only thing that couldn't stop racing.

Suddenly, Murdoc jumped off of the couch and stomped over towards Cyborg.

"What the hell are you playing at?!" he bellowed at her. The whole of Plastic Beach seemed to shake with the intensity of his fury. "You tried to kill him! You stupid, selfish, ignorant pile of useless waste! I need him, understand?! I  _need_ him!"

2D briefly absorbed these words, wondering what Murdoc meant by needing him. But his train of thought was lost as soon as he realized what Murdoc was about to do.

Cyborg raised her arms defensively, but every last ounce of mercy that had ever existed within Murdoc Faust Niccals was long,  _long_ gone. As soon as he could reach her, he punched her straight across the face. Blue sparks flew as Murdoc landed another punch to her gut. A swift kick to her leg made her collapse to the kitchen floor.

Maybe it was because she looked so much like Noodle, or because twenty-seven days ago, it had been him at the other end of those punches. But for some reason, 2D couldn't just sit there and watch.

"Stop it!" he screamed. To his surprise, Murdoc stopped immediately, whirling around and staring at 2D as if he'd forgotten he was there. "Jus'... Stop. Stop hitting her."

Murdoc's jaw clenched, and his eyes seemed to... soften? Maybe that wasn't the right word for it. No, definitely not; the words 'Murdoc' and 'soften' definitely didn't fit in the same sentence. Not if 'soften' was being used to describe an action Murdoc was doing. Murdoc  _never_ 'softened'. In fact, it was always the exact opposite. Murdoc hardened. Hardened his expression, hardened his persona, hardened his soul.

But 2D's words seemed to work nonetheless, because Murdoc stopped his attack on the cyborg. He turned around to look down at her and then took a few steps away. She sparked pathetically on the ground.

"I'd assigned that job to her," Murdoc explained, not looking away from his cyborg creation. He sounded positively  _furious_. "I gave her specific orders to give you three meals a day. Apparently, she didn't think you deserved that much."

Suddenly, realization hit him like the hood of Murdoc's car all those years ago. Murdoc hadn't been the one slowly starving him to death.

It had been Cyborg.


	5. Yukimi Nagano

2D sat on one of the couches in the living room, his legs pulled close to his chest. He was staring at Cyborg, who sat on the couch across from him. Her eyes were doing this creepy blinking thing. Every few seconds, they brightened very quickly, then dimmed. 2D winced each time, continuously fooled into thinking she was coming back to life.

All it had taken to shut her down was a hastily muttered, "Peanut!" Apparently, Murdoc had installed this safe word into her core processors for these exact situations. If she should ever rebel (which isn't entirely out of the question for a robot who, for one, had a master like Murdoc, and two, happened to have the ability to shoot bullets out her mouth), he need only use the safe word 'Peanut' to deactivate her.

After that, he could reset her entire systems, erasing all the data she'd gathered and saving only her main programs. Programs like speech, how to cook, and, of course, how to obtain, handle, and fire assorted military grade weapons.

It was 2D's choice not to question why the safe word was 'Peanut.'

He licked his lips, still tasting the burger he'd just finished. Cyborg might have tried to slowly starve him to death in days before, but she'd at least obeyed Murdoc's command to feed him this time around. And  _damn_ did she make a good burger.

Murdoc was somewhere downstairs, presumably in one of the other underwater prison cells in which he stored his captives. After deactivating the cyborg, he'd left to retrieve their first guest artist for the album.

2D slowly stood up from the couch, swallowing nervously and never once breaking eye contact with Cyborg. She didn't stir, so he figured he could relax.

He wanted to have his first proper look at the outside of Plastic Beach, since he hadn't exactly been conscious when he was outside of it. Plus, it was good to see daylight again. His skin seemed to have gotten even more pale since his stay on this godforsaken trash heap. Maybe just basking in its greenhouse-effect heat through a window would give his skin a bit of Vitamin D.

He glanced out the window of the living room, and began to walk toward it.

It was a huge thing, taking up almost the entire wall. You'd think from its size that it'd give quite a view, but you'd be mistaken. All 2D could see was the melted, matted together plastic rubbish that made up the beach below. Murdoc had (ingeniously) disguised the trash with an orange-pink paint that only served to make the beach look radioactive, instead of enhancing its appearance.

From this window 2D could also see the dock, stretching out into the blue water surrounding the island. The jetty sat waiting patiently for it's master's return, bobbing silently with the waves. 2D (regrettably) had to admit that it wasn't so bad to look at (if you squinted, maybe), and that in the quiet midday sun, it was almost... serene.

But there was one more thing that 2D could stare out at from this window on top of Plastic Beach. That thing was the ocean.

It was so open, so...  _free_. Countless molecules of water, tumbling and twirling around each other. Forever. Always. Until the world ended, he supposed, when there was no more water for oceans.

He could be free. Right now. He could do it. Cyborg was deactivated, Murdoc wasn't here. He could take the jetty, figure out the controls along the way, and just fly away, never to be seen again. He wouldn't even have to look back.

This was his chance. If he was going to do this, he'd have to do it now.

_Broken_  
_Our love_  
_Is broken..._

Murdoc had changed. He could get better. That song was living proof. Even if 2D knew he'd never be able to return his (sick, twisted, useless) love, the fact that he could love anyone like that was a miracle. Seriously, Murdoc Niccals writing a love song that  _wasn't_  meant to be a twisted joke? Things  _had_ to be turning around.

Besides, he couldn't move if he tried. His feet were having themselves a little boycott down against the carpet. No matter what 2D did, they would not move. Completely ignored him. The little tossers. Well, looks like he wasn't going anywhere, then. What with his feet not working and all.

2D bit his lip as he looked out over the water. If he was too concerned about the old arse to run when he had the chance, he was at least going to take in the pretty water.

2D was vaguely aware of a door being opened behind him, but he didn't react, momentarily caught up in the moment. It was a big decision, to stay here and donate time and effort (and possibly sanity) to slowly piece together Murdoc's story, and he was sure it would be not five minutes before he begun to regret it.

"... and this here's 2D!" said Murdoc from behind him. "Oh, no. He's discovered the window. He has a staring problem, you see. Windows are cesspools of things to stare at. It can be quite jarring for the poor dullard. Er, 2D, ol' pal? Can you hear me? No, see, he's already gone deaf..."

Oh hey, look at that! 2D had been right. It hadn't even been a full minute since he'd begun to regret not high-tailing it off this trash heap. Wasn't that wonderful?

"I'm not deaf!" 2D snapped, spinning around. Unfortunately, 2D wasn't the most graceful being. As he tried to take a step right after the spin, his legs seemed to be confused, and instead of untangling so the singer could walk, they decided to give up.

2D toppled clumsily to the floor, introducing his face to the carpet.  _Hello carpet, meet face._

He heard a laugh that could not possibly have been Murdoc's. It was higher, and cheerful. A giggle. 2D didn't think Murdoc even knew what a giggle  _was_. He didn't know what a giggle from Murdoc would sound like, but it was probably something that would make small children cry. Nothing like this.

"Woah, Murdoc, I didn't know you could  _make_ that sound," said 2D as he picked himself up from the carpet.

"Wha-?" cried Murdoc, "It wasn't me, it was-"

2D turned to look at where Murdoc's dirty finger was pointing. In the doorway stood a beautiful young woman. She was short, but not too short, maybe just a few inches shorter than 2D. Her hair was jet black, and cropped into an artistic, girly cut. Her skin was light golden in color, and radiant. She wore a strange outfit that probably wouldn't have worked on anyone but her. An airy navy blue top with pants that were baggy over her thighs but tight against her calves. She wasn't wearing any shoes.

"2D, meet Yuka- Yukeka- er..." Murdoc tried, but didn't get very far.

The woman rolled her eyes and stepped forward, extending her hand out to 2D.

"I'm Yukimi Nagano," she said, "I sing for the band Little Dragon. I take it you're this asshole's partner in crime?"

It took a few seconds for her words to register. Her hands were very soft and warm, and not counting Murdoc's strange face-touching, he hadn't touched another human being for almost a month. He'd forgotten what other people's hands were supposed to feel like, even for simple gestures like handshakes.

When Yukimi cleared her throat, 2D snapped back to attention, and that was when all her words caught up with him.

"Wait, what?" he said defensively, "No! He kidnapped me, I din't kidnap no one! I'm the one who was kidnapped! Well, er, I guess we both were..."

With a chuckle and a warm laugh, Yukimi nodded. "Don't worry," she said kindly, "I believe you, Mr. 2D."

Mr. 2D. That took him way back. In the beginning, when Noodle was slowly but surely learning how to speak English, she tried calling him that.

"Mr. 2D, Mr. Wassul want ask you someping!" she'd said one day from another room. It turned out to be about ten rooms away, and downstairs. Voices carried eerily well in Kong.

"Coming," 2D had called back. When he'd found her, he'd said, "By the way, you don' have t'call me that, love. Jus' 2D is fine."

She'd given him her winning smile and nodded. " _Hai_ , 2D-san."

Only then, it had sounded like "Toochi-san." She called him that for a while, even up until the band broke up. When they'd gotten back together for Demon Days, her English had improved immensely, and though she still had a heavy accent, she only called him Toochi about once every blue moon.

"Jus' call me 2D," he said to Yukimi. Not Noodle. She was not Noodle.

But where  _was_ Noodle? The last anyone seemed to hear of her was back at the El Mañana video shoot. Everyone knew how that turned out...

_I saw that day,_  
_Lost my mind..._

"Are you alright?" asked Yukimi.

2D snapped out of it and smiled. "I'm fine."

_Lord, I'm fine..._

2D glanced up at Murdoc, who'd left them for the kitchen, and another beer. His jet black hair hung low over his face, shadowing his eyes. He stared down at the bottle in his hands. His expression was hard to read, but there was something in it that made 2D want to take his hand. To hold him. There were words in that expression that Murdoc would probably never say out loud. Lyrics, maybe, to a song.

That's why 2D hadn't left when he could. That's why he was going to stay. He couldn't abandon Murdoc. Not now, not ever. No matter how much he hurt him, he would never really be able to run away. His heart would stay with Murdoc, even if it was wrong to like someone like him. Even if the bassist went his whole life never even knowing it was there.

_Maybe in time,_  
_You'll want to be mine..._

To 2D's surprise, Murdoc put the bottle back into the fridge without another word and turned to face his captive artists.

"I can see you two are getting along," he said, as if that beautiful, confusing little something he just did had never happened. "But we really need to get working on this album."

"Yeah, you promised good music," said Yukimi, "Let's see it, then."

Murdoc gestured with a nod of his head for them to follow him, and he led them back to the lift. When it arrived at their floor, they squeezed into the small tube. Murdoc went in first, 2D next, and Yukimi last. After a bit of squirming and readjusting, they managed to fit all their limbs into the lift. It seemed built for only one person at a time.

Metal groaned in protest as the elevator tried to lift all their weight at once. Then, slowly but surely, the elevator began to rise, creaking as it did.

Murdoc scoffed. "Stupid thing. Probably having trouble lifting your big head, face-ache."

"We probably should have taken turns," Yukimi remarked, pressed against the wall. There was hardly any space to move.

2D found himself pressed in between the wall and Murdoc.

He tried to stay absolutely still, but it was no use. He was hopelessly fidgety, and every time he moved some part of him brushed up against some part of Murdoc. He tried to make himself as small as possible, shrinking back against the wall, but Murdoc seemed to stay the same distance no matter what he did. That distance, of course, being next to nothing.

2D tried to ignore the contact, but it was proving to be far more difficult than he'd imagine. For one, he hadn't, er, touched himself in a long while. He was a bit too preoccupied with starving, being terrified by the whale, and wondering if Murdoc had forgotten about him to work up any sexual appetite. But now that he was fed, out of his cell, and with Murdoc...

The fantasies hit him like a ton of bricks. And not just, like, a bag of bricks falling on him from above. One by one, over and over, brick by brick.

_Him. Murdoc. In bed. Sweat soaking the sheets. Harder. Faster. Close, close, oh god so close-_

Were his cheeks red? Was he breaking a sweat? Could Murdoc see the steadily growing bulge in his trousers? Thinking about how hot it was getting just made him even hotter.

It didn't help, then, when the front of Murdoc's jeans pressed against his rear end.

Hiding his face in the crook of his elbow, 2D bit his lip hard and closed his eyes. Why was this happening now? He'd hid this secret of his for years. Was his cover going to be blown from a stupid erection?

_Come on, 2D, you're stronger than this. This is sex-addict Murdoc behavior right here. Just think about grandmum in a bikini or somethin'._

2D shuddered at the mental image, and started to calm down.

Murdoc's hips slid roughly against his arse as the bassist shifted in the lift, and everything came back. How could it not? That  _had_  to be on purpose! The big-headed git was  _definitely_ messing with him.

He should say something, ask him to politely give him a bit more room. He might have, if he thought Murdoc would listen.

Just then, the elevator  _dinged_ , and as soon as the doors open, everyone toppled out into a heap, bursting forth from the cramped elevator and gasping for fresh air.

2D was the first to recover. He quickly pulled himself off the floor and threw the door to the recording studio open, wanting to put as much distance as possible between him and the bassist.


	6. To Binge

"Here you go, duckies," said Murdoc.

He handed a copy of To Binge to Yukimi, and tossed the other in the general direction of 2D's face. He then walked to the corner of the studio and sat down in a massive, comfy-looking chair. He let himself melt into it, swinging one leg over the arm and leaning back. He lit up a fag as he watched the singers sip his genius like a fine wine.

2D, who'd been waiting for this song for a month, didn't even care about it being tossed rudely at him. He just scooped it up and drank it up greedily.

Right away, he noticed that this music sheet was nothing like Broken. Not just because it was a different song, but because it was neater. Broken had scribbles and stains and lines that were crossed out so hard the pen had torn through the paper. To Binge had neat, clear lyrics, and though a few things were crossed out, they were only crossed out lightly. It was as if they'd been omitted for small reasons, like for not rhyming or sounding right.

In Broken, Murdoc's cancelled lyrics seemed to be a taboo, things that should not be, and it seemed as though he'd done everything but burn the damned paper trying to get rid of them.

Why had Murdoc done that? What was he trying to hide?

Right now, 2D had no clue. He could only guess. That's all he was doing. Guessing. Because music isn't math, it's music. There's no definite answer, only hints, little breaths of sweet-smelling air, melodies that crash like waves of the ocean.

But if he had to give an answer, a definite, math-like answer, he'd say Murdoc was in love with someone, and that this was terrifying to him.

"So is it a stroke of genius or is it a stroke of genius?" said Murdoc. He threw his hands behind his head and sunk even further against his chair, smirking like he already knew the answer, and that the answer was yes, it  _was_  brilliant.

"It's fantastic," said Yukimi. Murdoc squinted at her, as if he was scanning her for sarcasm, but she was serious. "When do we start recording?"

"Oi, oi," said Murdoc with a smirk, "Curb your dogs, woman, you haven't even heard the music yet. First, keep reading, it gets better."

Yukimi couldn't tell if he was insulting her, so she just shrugged and continued pouring over the lyrics.

Murdoc got up from his chair, puffing away at his fag, and strode over towards 2D.  _Fuck_ , thought the singer, though he wasn't sure why he was so nervous, or why he felt like he was in trouble.

Murdoc didn't stop until he was about a foot from 2D's face, looming over him.

"And you?" Murdoc breathed. It wasn't exactly a whisper, but it was hushed. His deep voice was intoxicating. 2D swallowed nervously, hardly daring to breathe.

"Wh-what?" he somehow managed to get out. Murdoc leaned closer, blowing smoke into 2D's face. 2D unintentionally inhaled some, and felt something in his lower stomach coil in response. He was breathing Murdoc's  _air_.

"What do you think about the song?" asked Murdoc, raising an eyebrow.

_Oh, shit. I haven't even read the lyrics yet._

2D almost let the truth escape his lips, but somehow, somehow he managed to stuff them back down his throat.

"I, er," he said, "It's great, I guess."

Mouth, you old bastard, what are you doing? You don't just add 'I guess' to things when you're talking to Murdoc!

"You guess?" Murdoc sneered, leaning in a bit closer.

2D's heart was trying to escape. It kept throwing itself against his ribcage, like it was trying to bust out. He bit his lip, willing himself to calm down.  _There's still a healthy amount of distance_ , he thought,  _stop being such a girl!_

"Yeah, I guess," said 2D.

_Oh, now I get it. My mouth's just fucking with me._

Suddenly, Yukimi stepped in front of Murdoc.

"Hey, are we going to record this thing or what?" she said, tapping her bare foot on the carpet, her arms folded. Murdoc immediately backed off, blinking in surprise.

2D mentally thanked her, letting out an inaudible breath.

"Er, yeah," said Murdoc. "I've said that about three times now. It's all on the calendar, Yuke- You... Yousuke, erm..."

"It's Yukimi," she said, rolling her eyes. "Call me Yuki if it's easier. And what calendar?"

"That one," said Murdoc, walking over to the wall by his desk. There was a calendar hung up on the wall that neither 2D nor Yukimi had noticed before. It had all manner of scribbles and notes taking up almost every box.

Murdoc pointed to today's date, and both 2D and Yukimi walked over to read the note. Scratched in red marker was the title of the song they'd just been handed. To Binge.

Murdoc started laying out his plan for Yukimi, saying she was free to go after they'd recorded her two features for the album.

"Speaking of being held against my will," she said smoothly, "How much money are we talking about here to keep me from telling the world I was kidnapped and forced to sing?"

Murdoc chuckled wickedly. "Well, well, seems we've got ourselves a match between hagglers. Well, love, let me show you a few numbers. Tell me to stop when you're feeling a bit more...  _cooperative_."

2D noticed that there were a few other words written in red marker throughout the calendar. Soon, he found those red words were song titles. He drank in their names greedily. To Binge, Empire Ants, Some Kind of Nature, Glitter Freeze, Superfast Jellyfish, Sweepstakes, Stylo, Cloud of Unknowing, White Flag.

But no Broken.

2D hastily pulled up the next month, looking for more songs. Sure enough, there were a few. Rhinestone Eyes, Plastic Beach, Pirate Jet.

Still no Broken.

"Er, Murdoc?" he asked. "Where's 'Broken'? I don't see it here."

Murdoc and Yukimi looked up from their intense debate of finances. 2D watched Murdoc's expression morph from one of slight shock to potent rage. His lips parted slightly to bare his teeth, reminding 2D of a snarling wolf. He didn't make any noise, but 2D got the message.

_Tell her about that song and I'll snap you in two._

"'Broken'?" asked Yukimi. "What's that?"

"What's what?" said 2D. He was a scary good liar when Murdoc was involved.

"Broken."

"Nothing's broken."

"No, Broken. Is it one of the songs?"

"What songs?"

"The album songs!"

"The album songs aren't broken either."

"Ugh!" Yukimi exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "Never mind."

She and Murdoc went back to their discussion, which gave 2D time to sit alone and really absorb the lyrics of To Binge. Knowing he'd probably attract unwanted attention if he went for Murdoc's chair, he sat against the wall, stretched his legs out and got comfortable.

_[Yousuke]:_

_It's Yukimi_ , 2D thought with a tiny chuckle. The first verse was probably going to be one of her bits.

_Waiting by the mailbox, by the train,_  
_Passin' by the hills until I hear the name._  
_I'm lookin' for a saw to cut these chains in half and all I want is-_  
_Someone to rely on as-_  
_Thunder comes rolling down_  
_Someone to rely on as-_  
_Lightning comes staring in again._

And there it was, hidden in his music again. Those beautiful words Murdoc would never, ever say out loud, trapped within these pages. 2D didn't understand the lyrics, but that was okay, because he could feel them. This song made Murdoc seem... vulnerable.

2D wasn't blind to Murdoc's soft side. It's what had attracted him in the first place. Those (very, very) few, stolen moments that 2D preserved like gemstones in his memory.

Once, Murdoc left little presents under the tree for them on Christmas, even though he didn't celebrate it. He'd said they were from Satan, and that the snide, insulting notes attached to the presents proved this. When Russel accused him of lying, Murdoc had stormed off and locked himself in his room for two days.

He never left presents after that.

Murdoc could be the epitome of evil itself on most occasions, but there were times behind the cameras, off-record, where he wasn't. Those were the things 2D held onto when he was being beaten, or yelled at, or made fun of, because some part of him had always known that those slightly nicer times were when Murdoc was showing his true self.

Everything had changed at Plastic Beach. 2D had been so sure that Murdoc really had gone off the deep end, had become something sinister and anything-but-human. But he'd been wrong. The evidence was in Murdoc's songwriting, even if Murdoc himself didn't know it. 2D just had to give him a chance.

He glanced up at the bassist.

Murdoc was watching him. In the blink of an eye he glanced back at Yukimi, and smoothly replied to her comment, continuing their conversation as if nothing had happened. But 2D knew. He'd been watching him read his lyrics. Did he know what 2D was up to?

Did he know 2D was listening?

2D shook his head to clear his thoughts. Enough. He had lyrics to memorize. He read on.

_[Stu]:_

The singer paused, his eyes caught on that one little line that wasn't even a lyric. Stu, Stu, Stu... A forgotten name, buried under years of a nickname that stuck. He stared and stared, not only because it seemed strangely endearing for Murdoc to call him that, but also because it hit him, just then, that Stu was once his name.

Not 2D, not face-ache, not Tuss. His name was Stuart Pot and he'd left it for a nickname that had originally been an insult.

He'd forgotten his own name, but Murdoc hadn't.

He liked Murdoc- alright fine he  _really_  liked Murdoc, and that in itself must have been some kind of paradox. Because surely, liking someone that physically abuses you is a symptom of some kind of mental disorder.

But this was getting out of hand. He'd spent nearly a month caring more about hearing Murdoc's voice again instead of being fed. He'd nearly blown his cover in the lift just now with Murdoc's (questionably) innocent crotch-rubbing. And now, he was getting all emotional over Murdoc writing his bloody  _name_.

He refused to let it bother him. He shut himself down, burying his secret further and further, until it became an infinite point in a sea of nothing. This had to stop now, before something bad happened.

He read the rest of the lyrics, refusing to look into them any further. He was going to memorize his lines, sing the damn song, and forget everything.

"Are you ready?" asked Murdoc.

"Yeah," 2D replied coldly, not meeting his eyes. He stood up and brushed past Murdoc, making his way to the sound proof booth.

"What's  _your_  problem?" Murdoc growled.

2D finally glanced up at Murdoc, letting him see the anger in his eyes. He didn't say anything, but the look spoke for itself.

_You are._

Murdoc narrowed his eyes and was about to say something, but 2D turned around and walked into the booth.

He was ready. In the past half hour, he'd memorized the notes on the music sheet. He'd played the music in his head, hummed along to the tune, quietly letting it stick in his mind. He could sing this stupid song in his sleep.

Yukimi joined him in the booth and shut the door. 2D looked up to greet her, but couldn't bring himself to smile.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

2D looked up at Murdoc, whose back was turned to them as he set up the equipment.

"I just want to get off this stupid island," he said. "I can't stand being locked up with that tosser all day. It smells here, too."

"The smell's not so bad in here," she said, giving him a small smile. "It smells kind of familiar. Like dust, and instruments."

Slowly, 2D returned her smile, allowing a genuine one to bloom on his face like a flower.

"Like music," he agreed. They were silent for a moment, both knowing this could be the birth of a great friendship. Then, 2D's smile grew a bit amused, and he spoke. "Though, Murdoc's still a tosser."

Yukimi laughed. A hearty, musical laugh that was strong enough to coax one from 2D.

"That he is," she agreed. "But I think there's more to him than that. Don't you agree?"

Before 2D could respond, there was a tap on the glass. They both looked up to see Murdoc, glaring in on them. Knowing they wouldn't be able to hear anything he said, he just pointed to his wristwatch, and narrowed his eyes.  _Come on, guys. We've got a schedule to keep._

Yukimi nodded, and Murdoc rolled his eyes, turning around. She pulled on her headphones and stood in front of her mic.

A bit confused and for some reason slightly on edge at Yukimi's last remark, 2D trembled slightly as he put on his headphones.

Then the music started.

And it shattered him.

He knew the melody. He'd seen it on paper, hummed along to it dozens of times to get it down. But there was such a big difference between seeing it and hearing it. Seeing it was fine. Hearing it made his eyes sting.

Such a beautiful melody, the soft strumming of an acoustic guitar filling out all the cracks in this song. The soft hint of electricity swaying to the beat, a tiny chirpy noise acting as the cherry on top to this wonderful cake of a song.

Why? Why was he doing this to him? The bruises and the scars he could take. But this music was something he'd never thought to prepare himself for.

Sure, Murdoc had helped write the songs in the past, but this was different. This wasn't him adding a little of his flavor. This was all his work, the noise he associated with this beach, his life. It wasn't perfect, in any sense of the word. It was Murdoc. It was... beautiful.

" _Waiting by the mailbox, by the train_ ," sang Yukimi. " _Passin' by the hills 'til I hear the name..._ "

2D looked over at Yukimi, lost in her sweet voice. She seemed to get this song just as much as he did, because when 2D was memorizing this, he kept singing with a full, strong voice. He knew now, as Yukimi did, that this song didn't need a full voice. It required something a little more soft, small, broken.

" _I'll wait to be forgiven_ ," 2D joined in, " _Maybe I never will..._ "

He glanced up at Murdoc, and nearly missed his next line. The bassist was staring at him again. This time, he didn't look away. He looked right into 2D's eyes, a strange look on his face.

" _Just don't know if I could roll into the sea again_ ," 2D sang, unable to look away. " _'Just don't know if I could do it all again,' she said, it's true..._ "

Murdoc finally lowered his gaze, staring down at the floor. It took everything 2D had within him not to burst out of the recording booth and hug the man. The stupid, stupid man who tossed his feelings around without even knowing it.

" _Waiting in my room, and I lock the door_ ," Yukimi went on. " _I watch the colored animals across the floor..._ "

As she sang, Murdoc sat up and looked toward the window.

" _And I'm lookin' from a distance, and I'm listenin' to the whispers and oh it ain't the same when you're- fallin' out of feeling and you're... Fallin' in and caught again. Ca-a-a-aught again..._ "

As soon as 2D began to sing, Murdoc closed his eyes and mouthed the words.

_I'm singing for him,_  2D realized.  _He has a crap voice so he's using mine to sing this song for his lover..._

2D felt sick, but he continued. If he messed up this recording they'd have to start all over again.

" _But I just have to tell you that I- love you so much these days,_ " 2D sang, trying to ignore the words while saying them at the same time. He couldn't let himself think about her, this mystery woman Murdoc loved. It was just another song. Nothing more.

" _My heart is an economy, due to this autonomy_ ," he sang, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. Don't let your voice break, he reminded himself. It's almost over. " _Rolling in and caught again..._ "

One more repeat and he was done. He held his breath for a good five seconds after the song ended. When Murdoc gave a thumbs-up to make noise again, he threw his headphones off.

"Goin' to the loo," he mumbled, pushing the booth door open. He burst out of the studio, tears already stinging at his eyes, something unpleasant already swelling up from his stomach.

He slammed the door behind him, not once looking back.


	7. Fever Dreams

2D closed the door behind him, making sure it was locked. He waited a few seconds, listening carefully for footsteps or angry mutters that might have been following him. There was nothing to be heard.

2D let out a choked sob and spun around, pressing his back against the door. He buried his face in his hands and allowed himself to cry. Years of abuse, heartache, and these new songs that poured salt in 2D's wounds. He let all of it melt from his eyes, flow over the great dam he tried so hard to keep up.

His body slid downward until he was crumpled in a pathetic heap on the floor. He curled into himself, rocking slightly back and forth. His blue hair fell in front of his face as he hung his head in shame, wishing he had the strength to keep his composure, to hold back the tears. He knew he probably looked like an idiot right now, or at the very least a teenage girl. Crying about a boy. He was absolutely absurd.

But sometimes you just have to feel things,  _let_ them get to you. Not that Murdoc would know anything about that.

He feared his only secret was on the precipice of being given away, handed out like chum change, all for a few emotions. If anyone walked in right now and asked him what was wrong, he wouldn't have the strength to hold back. He'd just tell them this secret he'd been holding in for so long.

That he was in love with Murdoc Niccals. All strange, evil,  _beautiful_  pieces of him.

* * *

 

It took him at least half an hour to dry his eyes out. When he could cry no more, he felt drained. All the emotions had flowed out with his tears, leaving nothing behind but a staring, dull man with nothing to do but wonder how he got here.

Seriously, though. How  _did_  he get here? And on that note, where the hell  _was_ he?

Someplace dark. The only lighting in the room came from a dusty window high up on the wall. It might have been a bathroom once. The floor tiles were black and white (or what could have been white, if they weren't covered with a layer of filth). There was a sink in front of him, coupled with a broken mirror. An old, rusty bathtub was tucked against one wall, and a toilet against the other.

"Wot are yew cryin' for?"

2D gasped and scooted back against the door, pulling his knees up to his chest and hiding behind them.

"W-who's there?" he asked meekly.

"Over 'ere."

2D looked over to his right. The only thing on that side of the room was that rusty old toilet.

"Er... where?" 2D gulped, hoping he hadn't run into a ghost.

"'Ere, you bafflin' baffoon!"

No, it couldn't be... But he'd  _seen_ it move. The lid, flopping open and closed like a mouth.

It was the toilet.

2D was silent for a long time. Then, "Am I dead?"

"No, yer not dead, boy," said the toilet. "The name's Sam. And yes, aye  _am_ a toilet. Might as well git all yer fonneh jokes out now. The whole, 'I've seen shit' one's a favorite, if aye do say so meself."

"You've seen shit?" 2D repeated. After a second he got it, and let out a nervous giggle. "Ha! I get it! That's funny."

"No it ain't, boy," said Sam the toilet. "It's the worst joke aye know."

2D blinked.

"Oh," he said, "Alright then."

"Wot's yer name, boy?"

"Er, 2D," he answered.

"Yer  _real_ name, boy."

"... Stuart."

" _There_ it is," said Sam, "There must be few people who call yew by tha' name if yew don't consider it yers..."

2D changed the subject. "Am I really talking to a... toilet?"

"Is it really that surprising, boy?" said Sam. 2D didn't know why he even bothered to ask for his name if all he was going to call him was 'boy'. "That drunken snake's made a bloomin'  _cyborg robot_ and yer questionin' whether 'e can make a talkin' toilet?"

"Huh," said 2D, "I never thought about it that way before. Though, no offense... but why would he want to make a talking toilet?"

"Yer askin' me why aye was made?" said Sam. "'Ell if aye know."

There was a pause.

"Where are we?" 2D asked. "I don't remember even getting here."

"Aye don't know," said Sam, "I've never been outside these walls. This room's all aye know. But don' let tha' fool ya. I'm the wisest toilet yew'll ever meet."

"You're the only toilet I'll ever meet," 2D pointed out.

"Perhaps," Sam conceded. There was another moment of silence. "Aye feel sorry for ya, lad."

2D furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Sorry for me? Why?"

"Yer the same as me," Sam explained, "Bein' used by tha' fool up there. Aye was made fer laughs, and then tossed aside when aye became more annoyin' than fonneh. 'E'll do the same to yew,  _Stuart_."

"He didn't make me," 2D said.

"Oh aye," said Sam, "But yew're 'is property. 'E does what 'e wants with yew. Sooner or later 'e'll tire of 'earin' yer voice. When tha' happens, 'e'll toss you out like scrap, bury you in one of 'is closets to rust away."

"He's my friend," said 2D, his hands clenching into fists. "What kind of friend could leave their mate behind?"

"Friend, eh?" said Sam. Since he was a toilet, he didn't have any discernible face, so he couldn't make expressions. But 2D could hear a sadness in his voice. Sam was using the kind of tone you give to a child. _Of course, little dove, don't fret, you know everything and I'm the one who's wrong._

"What kind of friend would kidnap yew," Sam continued, "And force yew to sing 'is love songs? If tha' beast is yer friend, boy, yew'd best think long and 'ard about what yew consider a friend to be."

* * *

 

"2D? 2D, can you hear me?"

_No. Go away. The light hurts. Your voice is all grubby._

"Come on, Tuss. Wake up, now."

_Tuss, is it? How 'bout I shove my hand up your-_

"He's awake."

2D's eyes fluttered open, and slowly the world came into focus. He rediscovered color and shapes, though everything was blurry.

"How do you feel?"

2D looked to his right and found a young woman. Black hair, golden skin, pretty eyes.

"Yukimi?" he croaked, feeling like a thousand hells. "I'm... alright."

"Are you?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "Because you're running a high fever."

"I am?" he asked. He winced at the sound of his own voice. It was all scratchy and weak. "Then I feel like shit."

"Give him some breathing room, will you?"

A familiar voice. Yukimi was pushed out of the way, and Murdoc took her place. He placed his hand on 2D's forehead and frowned.

"Noodle," he commanded, "Bring me a fresh cloth and cold water."

2D licked his dry lips and weakly lifted his head. The Cyborg saluted Murdoc and strode out of the room. So,  _she_ was back.

"She wouldn't look like that, you know," said 2D, coughing dryly. His mouth was a desert.

"Don't talk," said Murdoc, "We need to keep on schedule. If you talk, your voice could go."

"If she is alive," 2D continued, ignoring Murdoc. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes still too dry to let out any tears. "She'd be older now. A young woman."

2D slowly turned his head, resting it back on the pillow. He stared at Murdoc, who looked slightly angry, but also sad.

"You know how old she'd be?" 2D asked, refusing to look away from Murdoc's eyes. He'd captured them, and wasn't about to let them go. "Do you have any clue?"

"2D, you should save your voice-"

"How old, Murdoc?" 2D croaked, narrowing his eyes as anger started to well up within him. "How old would Noodle be right now? When's her birthday?"

"October thirty-first," Murdoc spat, standing up suddenly. He kicked the chair behind him, sending it crashing against the wall. "1990. She would be 19 years old. Are you  _fucking_ happy?"

2D swallowed, a thousand grains of sand and blood traveling down his throat.

"Yes," he whispered, a stray tear falling. Funny, he thought he'd run out of those. "I am."

Murdoc turned around and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. 2D didn't wince at the loud noise.

It was quiet for a while. Yukimi broke the silence with a slight cough. 2D flinched and then relaxed when she came over to sit by him. He'd forgotten she was there.

"I don't know what that was about," she began softly, "But you shouldn't blame him."

"Who should I blame, then?"

"I didn't mean it like that," she clarified. "I just meant... He's not a bad man. On the surface, maybe. But not all the way through."

"He's using me," said 2D, "All he sees in me is my voice. That's all I'm good for."

"I don't think that's true," she said. "He wouldn't be fretting over you like a mother hen if it was."

"He always does this," said 2D. "Even during Demon Days. He'd beat the crap out of me whenever he felt like it, but if he went too far and almost killed me, or if I got sick like this, he'd freak out about how the band couldn't go on without the lead singer. That I was the front man, the voice behind this group, and he couldn't care less if I died or not, but he needed my voice. It was my voice, always my voice. You heard him jus' now-"

"What about Noodle?" said Yukimi. "The little girl that used to be your guitarist. She did some significant vocals for the group, didn't she?"

"Yeah, but-"

"When she got sick," Yukimi interrupted, "Or lost her voice, did Murdoc worry then? Did he push others out of the way and order people to bring things for her?"

2D swallowed dryly and closed his eyes.

"Thas' different," he said.

"How?" asked Yukimi. "If her voice was important, and that's all Murdoc cares about... Why didn't he fret over her? Why does he worry so much about you?"

2D tried hard to ignore it, but Yukimi was right. And it was scary, allowing that hope to come back to him. All the heartache and the denial and the stuffing those emotions back inside... Did he really have to hide them?

"The answer you're looking for is in his music," said Yukimi, smiling down at him. "It's in his lyrics, in the crescendos and melodies."

"I know," said 2D. And he did. He knew all this already. He didn't need Yukimi to tell him.

She just smiled knowingly.

"Do you?"


	8. Break (Part 1)

2D's fever lasted for three days. Sam never showed up again, which lead him to think he was just another hallucination.

And there were a  _lot_  of hallucinations.

By the end of his fever, even though he knew most of what he'd seen never happened, he was convinced this whole island was some kind of asylum for personified inanimate objects.

Once, he'd had a conversation with a seagull (named Seagull) and a pelican (named Pelican) whom had claimed they'd seen Murdoc desperately trying to mate with a door knob one night when he was drunk out of his mind. Then they got into an argument about how drunk Murdoc had actually been, and whether or not he was intentionally screwing said doorknob.

Another night (or day, 2D couldn't ever be sure) he'd opened his eyes to see his ceiling was dripping with wet paint. It kept dripping onto his face and bed covers, making a mess of everything. Once it even dripped into his mouth, and it tasted like a sloppy kiss.

It went on like this for what felt like months. He'd open his eyes, see he was outside on the beach, or back at his home town of Crawley, or in Murdoc's bedroom, having a smoke.

Then one day, he opened his eyes and saw that he was in his room, still here on Plastic Beach. Point Nemo, furthest point from any land mass on the globe. Nothing was melting, no pictures or chairs or walls were talking, and best of all, his skin didn't feel like the surface of the sun.

Only, he wasn't so sure he was fully recovered yet. Evidenced of course by Murdoc's sleeping form curled up on his lap.

He was just  _there_ , sleeping on him. Surely he was still trapped in his endless fever dreams. 2D couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Murdoc sleep, let alone trust someone enough to allow himself to look this  _vulnerable_  in front of them.

Murdoc's mouth was slightly ajar. A soft, warm breath blew against 2D's fingers. His hand was right next to Murdoc's face. Knowing this was probably one of the better fever dreams, 2D weakly lifted his index finger and stroked the bassist's jaw.

A flurry of colors invaded his mind (not his vision, he noted with wonder). Reds, purples, greens, blues, yellows, whites, blacks. They flowed around just like they did when 2D listened to music. Except, there was no music. None that he could hear, anyways. The only music was right in front of him. This, whatever it was. A feeling, maybe. A connection.

It was gone too fast.

"Tuss?" Murdoc stirred, and 2D dropped his hand. He closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. He felt Murdoc gasp and jump away from him. A dull thud as he hit the floor. 2D could hear him panting, as if he just woke up from a nightmare. Or maybe catching himself laying on 2D  _was_  the nightmare.

The last of the colors drifted away, leaving 2D feeling hollow.

It was quiet for a few moments, and 2D wondered if Murdoc had left the room. Then, he heard him muttering beside his bed. He strained to hear.

"Stop it," he was saying, "Stop it,  _stop_  it..."

_Stop what?_

There was a knock on the door. 2D heard Murdoc take a deep breath, and then walk over to open it.

"Oh, it's you," said Murdoc.

"Who else would it be?" It was a woman. 2D strained to remember the voice, and after a few moments it clicked. Yukimi!

"I don't know," Murdoc mumbled, "The robot, with some medicine."

 _He didn't call that thing Noodle_ , 2D noticed.

"How is he?" Yukimi asked.

Apparently she didn't wait for his answer, because 2D heard a set of footsteps walking his way. A soft, feminine hand touched his forehead.

"His fever's gone," she stated. "He should wake up any minute now."

2D didn't want to make it obvious that he'd been awake, so he waited a few more minutes before pretending to wake up.

"Yukimi?" he asked. One thing he didn't have to fake was the weakness. He still felt drained of energy, tired to his bones.

"We're here," she said, taking his hand. "You should feel much better now, the fever's gone."

2D felt a bead of cold, sticky sweat run down his forehead when he tried to sit up.

"I know," he said, wiping it away with the back of his hand. His hand came away drenched. "I could use a bath."

"That you could," Yukimi said with a warm smile. "Murdoc will help you."

"What?" 2D and Murdoc glanced at each other. They'd both said that at the same time.

"Surely you don't expect  _me_  to do it?" Yukimi asked, glancing between them. The boys fell silent, looking away. "It's settled, then. Murdoc, remember, the water shouldn't be too hot."

With that, Yukimi got up and headed for the door. Murdoc stopped her along the way.

"You're not serious?" he growled.

"You want his voice?" she responded casually, "Then you take care of his body, as well. And everything else that goes with it."

She brushed past him and out the door, leaving 2D alone with a fuming Murdoc.  _Thanks, Yukimi._

The two stared at each other for about a minute, neither able to look away. Finally, Murdoc let out a huge, exasperated sigh and strode over to 2D's beside.

"Let's not make this any more awkward than it needs to be," he growled, ripping the covers off the singer's body and plugging his nose. "Gah! You really  _do_  need a bath."

2D winced at his disgusted tone and remained silent, allowing Murdoc to help him off the bed and into an upright position. Everything hurt, but he tried valiantly not to let that show. When he was finally standing, Murdoc let go of him and gave him a disgusted shove. 2D let out a weak cry and fell over, his arms saving his face from slamming against the floor.

Once he recovered, he glared up at Murdoc.

"What?" he asked innocently, wearing an amused smirk.

2D picked himself up and, strength somewhat renewed, walked over to the door.

"Where's the bathroom?" he asked.

"I'll show you," Murdoc said.

"Just tell me," 2D snapped coldly. Murdoc turned to him in surprise.

"Why?" he growled, "I'm taking you there right now."

"I don't need you to kick me there," 2D stated, "I can walk just fine on my own."

Murdoc rolled his eyes and grabbed 2D's arm harshly.

"Stop taking everything so seriously," he said as he dragged 2D down the hall, "You weren't such a drama queen before. Did you get fucked in the arse or something since I've last seen you?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" 2D barked, his anger rising.

"So you  _did_?" Murdoc sneered in amusement. "Tell me, who was it? Who took your anal V-card?"

"Nobody!" 2D nearly shouted, "I haven't done any of that! Let me go, you're hurting me!"

"Don't lie to me," Murdoc laughed. "I bet you're gayer than Richard Simmons."

"He 'ent even gay!" 2D cried. "And I'm not either!"

They made it to the bathroom, and Murdoc shoved the door open. 2D half-expected to see Sam the toilet and a rusty mirror, but he was pleasantly surprised to see nothing of the sort. The walls were white (not off-white, but actually white), and the tiles were clean and polished. The sink was big enough to bathe a small child, and the bath was big enough for at least five people.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Murdoc smiled.

"Not at all," 2D closed his gaping mouth and threw on a pout. " _Now_  will you let go of me arm?"

"Don't be ridiculous," said Murdoc, "Now I have to help you bathe."

There was something wicked in that sentence. Something that made electricity spark along 2D's spine. Something that made him crave  _more_.

Something dangerous.

"Y-you don't have to do that," 2D whimpered, "I can do it alone. I'm not that weak-"

Murdoc shoved 2D without warning again, and the singer fell over. Just before he could crack his skull on the side of the sink, Murdoc caught him and gathered him into his arms. His eyebrow was raised, questioning 2D's previous statement.

"W-well that was jus' 'cos you pushed me over!" he cried in defense. Murdoc stood him upright and began to fill the tub with warm water.

"What are you so afraid of?" he asked.

"You," 2D answered before he could think about it. Murdoc paused, but after a second just continued, pretending he wasn't bothered. "I-I only meant-"

"Just take your clothes off," he said, sounding tired.

Not wanting to set him off, 2D did as he was told. He peeled his sticky shirt and pants off of him. Just when he was about to pull off his briefs, Murdoc stopped him.

"Oi, there's no need for that!" he exclaimed, holding up his hand to shield his eyes. 2D quickly yanked them back on, his cheeks burning. He should have known those would stay on. He was so  _stupid_.

"S-sorry," he mumbled. He covered his chest with his arms, a cold draft making his damp body shiver.

Murdoc cautiously lowered his hand and glanced over to 2D. His mouth opened the tiniest bit and he sucked in a breath. As his eyes roamed the singer's body, 2D felt mortified, and tried to shrink back against the door.

Murdoc walked over to him. The roar of the hot water being pumped into the bath served to quench the silence, though for all that was going on in 2D's mind, it didn't need to be there.

When Murdoc reached him, he gently pulled 2D's arms away. 2D hardly dared to breathe. Was this all a dream? Did Murdoc know what he was doing to him right now?

Fingernails grazed against his ribcage, trailed down to his hips.

"After your bath," Murdoc spoke quietly, suddenly sounding...  _tender_. "We'll get you something to eat. Whatever you want, okay?"

2D swallowed and slowly turned to look up at him. He nodded, not trusting his voice to speak.

When the bath was full, Murdoc helped ease 2D into the water. It burned at first, but it was a good kind of burn. The heat shot deep into his muscles and numbed the pain. When he was lowered all the way in, the water coming up to his chest, he let out an involuntary moan of delight.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" cried Murdoc, grabbing his shoulders roughly and stumbling into the bath. 2D snapped to attention. Apparently, his muscles had given out at the intense relaxation and he was about to float to the far side of the tub. It really was more like a small pool, after all.

"You're wet," 2D stated, staring pointedly at Murdoc's soaked jeans.

"Your powers of observation remain impeccable," Murdoc said sardonically. 2D's mind couldn't process all the big words in that statement, though he knew he was being insulted, so he just hung his head.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Murdoc sighed and began to strip. 2D stared up at him, blinking dumbly.

"Er, Murdoc?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm already wet," he explained, "Might as well get in with you."

"But-"

"We're both guys, right?" Murdoc said quickly, "It's no big deal. Unless of course you  _are_  gay."

"I am not!" 2D frowned.

"Then what's the problem?"

2D swallowed, looked down at his feet through the water and shrugged. Murdoc pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it clear across the bathroom.

2D closed his eyes and sunk a bit into the water, leaning over and blocking himself with his hands.

This was going to be a long bath.


	9. Break (Part 2)

Murdoc's belt clanked against the pretty, clean tiles of the bathroom floor.

_What's going on?_

Murdoc's jeans followed.

_He's taking a bath?_

Murdoc lowered himself into the hot water, sighing in content as the soothing warmth enveloped him.

_With me?!_

It hadn't really hit him until just then - when Murdoc had actually stripped down to his boxers and got into the tub with him - that what was happening was ludicrous. Insane, mental, mad. Whatever other word there was for bizarre and nonsensical. Because Murdoc was taking a  _bath_  with him. In his  _underwear_.

2D picked a point on the opposite wall and stared. He concentrated hard on not letting his gaze stray. If he let himself look at Murdoc, who knew where his eyes might wander? If they migrated too far south, well... he'd be in trouble.

"You gonna wash up or what?" Murdoc asked suddenly.

He was leaning against the far end of the jacuzzi-sized bathtub, as far as he could get from 2D. His arms were tucked behind his head like a makeshift pillow. He looked every bit as relaxed as 2D felt tense. Of course he was. There were few things that phased Murdoc Niccals, and of the ones 2D had picked up (only after years of living with him), relaxing in a jacuzzi with a fellow band mate was not one of them.

For 2D, though, whose band mate also happened to be the man he'd secretly fancied for years on end, bathing together in nothing but their knickers was more than a little terrifying.

"Er, yeah," 2D mumbled.

He spotted a washcloth and a bar of soap resting on the side of the tub. He made to reach for them, but a sudden, stabbing pain shot through his arm, rippling across his chest and down his side. He cried out and retracted his hand, cradling it to his chest.

"What happened?" Murdoc asked. He seemed, just for a fleeting moment, genuinely concerned. But the bassist was quick to pull a mask back over his features, and he projected nothing but a lazy curiosity.

"My arm," 2D whimpered as the pain ebbed away. "It jus'... hurt. Out of nowhere."

"You haven't used it in a few days," Murdoc explained casually, shrugging. "It's probably sore or something. Don't move too suddenly and you should be fine."

"But I walked all the way here," 2D continued, "Nothing hurt  _then_. Well, except for when you dug your  _claws_  into my arm..."

Murdoc shot him a glare.

"Suck it up, face-ache," he growled, a bite to his tone that silenced the singer. "Whiny prick."

 _My name's not face-ache_ , 2D thought to himself with a sudden defiance.  _You buried my real name and then brought it back to life and-_

_And I wish I understood why you did that. Why you had to remind me what you'd done._

Silence fell, and...  _Stuart_  (he hated how foreign his own name sounded) reached more gently for the washcloth and soap. As he began to clean off the layer of grime that had collected on his skin over the past three days, the pain slowly ebbed from his muscles. It became easier to move.

When he was done scrubbing and washing his hair, he let himself just soak. The bath was still very warm, heat seeping right down to his bones. Little wisps of steam rose from the surface of the water. Despite the situation, 2D began to relax into it. He blamed the warmth when his eyes began to drift.

Maybe it wasn't so bad to stare, he reasoned with himself. He didn't have any visible irises. If he was careful, he could get away with a quick peek or two. After all, it'd been a while since he'd last seen the bassist in his underwear.

Actually, it'd only been a few days, but any amount of time was too long to wait.

Angling his face so that he could be staring at the wall next to Murdoc, he let his gaze fall on Murdoc's body.

Despite his ego, Murdoc did not have the physique of a god. His features didn't look as though they'd been "chiseled by ancient craftsmen," by any stretch of the imagination. He wasn't flawless. His skin was green and he had heavy, dark bags under his eyes and his teeth were jagged and sharp as razors.

But he was handsome. 2D had always thought so. From the moment he'd first seen him, even when the deeper attraction was not yet there.

Though Murdoc might not have a flawless facial structure, it was in the imperfections 2D found beauty (though he admitted that wasn't a word he'd normally use to describe Murdoc). His permanently broken nose told a story (about eight to be specific). The bags under his eyes suggested countless sleepless nights, a tortured man. More stories he probably wouldn't ever tell.

But music he would write? Perhaps. And 2D promised himself he would be there to hear it all.

"What happened to me after I left the Studio?" 2D asked suddenly. Drinking in Murdoc's body without his knowledge had suddenly lost it's thrill.

Murdoc opened his eyes, seeming calmly surprised that 2D had anything to say. He glanced over to 2D without bothering to even turn his head. He inhaled so deeply it was almost like an inward sigh. 2D took it that way, since he could sense the annoyance in Murdoc's breath.

"Nothing much," Murdoc finally said. 2D fidgeted. To appear untroubled by the delicious rumble in Murdoc's baritone voice, the singer reached (much more gently) for the washcloth and soap and began to wash up. "When you didn't come back, that Yuki girl went out to look for you. She found you in one of the ruddy bathrooms I'd forgotten about and I had the robot carry you to the nearest bed. If you hadn't noticed, this luxury bathroom wasn't made for you."

2D paused in scrubbing his arms and glanced around them, absorbing once more the grandeur of the room. Clean marble tiles. A flawless, extravagant mirror in front of a stone sink. The lights were electric, but 2D noticed a few candle holders on the walls. Imagining them filled with lit candles, the light of the flames dancing along the walls and bathtub, made heat rise to his cheeks. He quickly went back to scrubbing, allowing the suds to clean both his skin and his dirty thoughts.

"Who was it made for, then?" 2D asked, fighting hard to keep his voice from cracking.

"Who else would surround themselves with only the best this sodding world has to offer?" said Murdoc. 2D looked up at him. He expected the smirk, since he'd heard it in Murdoc's tone. He hadn't been expecting the far-away look in the bassist's eyes.

"It's mine," Murdoc answered finally. "Of course."

  1.  There was something in the way Murdoc said that, and in the way he looked directly at 2D, that only fueled the heat in the singer's cheeks. Wishing with all his might that Murdoc couldn't see the bulge in his briefs, 2D thought quickly for something else to distract him. To distract them both.



"I was sick for three days," 2D continued, scrubbing his chest with the washcloth. "Weren't we supposed to record the next song the day after To Binge?"

"Yeah, well," Murdoc said, rolling his eyes before closing them again. "You seemed a bit preoccupied trying to stay alive. Besides, we still have another day or two before the crew shows up. If you're up for singing, we could record Empire Ants before then."

2D remembered Empire Ants (he remembered  _every_  song listed on Murdoc's sacred calendar). Just hearing the name had perked his ears up, sent his mind into a frenzy. Soon, he'd hear another one of Murdoc's songs. He'd be given another piece of him.

"Empire Ants," 2D repeated quietly, and he couldn't help but smile. It sounded like a very interesting song. "What's that one about?"

He'd asked the question long before he'd given his mouth permission to open. The words had just tumbled harmlessly away from him, and he knew he could never get them back. Murdoc didn't answer questions like these. Not honestly, at least. That's why 2D was forced to get the answers through his songs.

"I don't really know," said Murdoc. Perfectly timed. A casual answer. He sounded relaxed. "It was a stormy night when I wrote it, and I was pretty far gone. In the words of Rick James, cocaine's one helluva drug."

Murdoc snickered to himself as if he found drug abuse amusing. An awkward silence fell over the room. Though, 2D wondered if he was the only one who thought it was awkward, since Murdoc didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable. He was still wearing his mask, so everything was fine.

The mask was the name 2D had given to Murdoc's way of dealing with intense emotions. It wasn't a physical mask, but for all the hiding it allowed Murdoc to accomplish, it might as well have been. It was another thing 2D had only picked up on after years of watching him from afar. Signs of the mask could be very subtle, something as small as a shadow passing over the bassist's eyes, a twitch of his lip, a slight perking of his oddly-shaped ears.

2D used to be so fond of the mask. He was proud that he knew something about Murdoc that not many people did. Maybe it was Murdoc's comment about cocaine that had done it. Maybe it was because the both of them were taking a warm, soothing bath in nothing but their underwear. But 2D had never had a bigger desire to destroy Murdoc's mask.

To break it into a million little pieces and see what truly lay behind it.

With a gentle splashing sound, 2D sat up from the water, tucking his legs beneath him and sitting on his heels. He made sure the washcloth was soapy enough and then began to clean his lower back and hips, scrubbing in gentle, slow circles.

"What are you doing?" Murdoc asked, sounding tense.

2D glanced over and saw Murdoc's gaze was locked onto his hips. He was watching 2D's hand run along his outer thigh like a cat watches a mouse. 2D didn't have an answer to his question. In truth, he didn't have any idea what he was doing. All he knew was that it seemed to be working.

"Washing up," said 2D, trying not to sound too obviously innocent. He aimed for indifference, putting on a mask of his own in the hopes that Murdoc would remove his. "Like you told me to."

"Right," Murdoc said, though he seemed a bit far away. His eyes were trained on 2D's body, and there was something empowering about that. Confidence slowly began to take place of 2D's doubt, and the singer moved his hand down toward his inner thigh.

"You know..." Murdoc spoke quietly. Was it just 2D or did his voice sound a bit deeper, more rugged? "It's been a long time since I've shagged a bird."

2D swallowed, feeling himself heat up. This time, blood rushed to more select areas of his body, instead of just burning through his veins. Why was Murdoc talking about the last time he had sex?

"Has it?" 2D breathed. He slowly raised his arse to run the cloth down the side of his hips, careful to keep his front concealed in the water. He thought he might look a bit silly, his bum sticking out like it was, but a barely noticeable intake of breath from Murdoc was enough to convince him otherwise.

"A very long time..." Murdoc continued. He sounded like he was talking more to himself now than to 2D.

Suddenly Murdoc sat up from his place against the wall. He waded over to 2D's side, placing his hand on the singer's and stopping him. 2D looked up bravely to meet his eyes. Murdoc was dangerously close to his face.

"Maybe we could change that," Murdoc growled lightly, his husky voice sending shivers up 2D's spine.

Their lips were inches apart, and 2D felt a bit light-headed. This couldn't be real. It was just some cruel fever dream. Any second now he'd wake up with a 102.3 Fahrenheit temperature and an annoying hard on he'd soon forget.

But none of that happened. What did was far more interesting.

2D's lips hovered near Murdoc's for a split second before they met.

Colors bloomed once again in 2D's mind. His heart turned into a hummingbird and it fought hard to escape his chest.  _Impossible_ , it screamed,  _all of this is impossible_. Yet Murdoc's lips were pressed roughly against his own. His hands found 2D's lower back and the bassist pulled him closer, suddenly possessive. 2D had to disagree with his hummingbird heart, and instead allow himself, for the very first time, to think the words he'd tried so hard to keep locked away in the darkest corners of his mind.

 _This is_  entirely  _possible_.

But as soon as he thought that, he knew it wasn't. Murdoc had eyes for another. A kiss does not prove anything. Besides, though 2D wasn't going to deny that this kiss was almost everything he'd ever imagined it to be, he knew it wasn't what he wanted. He wanted love. He was getting desire. He didn't know how he'd got here, to be honest, but something had been lost in translation along the way.

"Stop," he said. It took every ounce of strength he had left to drop the soapy cloth he'd been clinging to into the water, gently place his arms on Murdoc's chest, and push away.

"What?" Murdoc hissed, frustrated.

"Broken," 2D muttered, his voice just above a whisper. He closed his eyes and forced himself to concentrate. "The song that-"

"I know the fucking song," Murdoc snapped, roughly pulling 2D's body closer. Something hard and impossibly hot burned against 2D's inner thigh, and the singer gulped. "What about it?"

"I want to know," 2D muttered, unable to meet Murdoc's piercing eyes, "I want to know what that one's about... Who you wrote it for."

"Why are you asking this  _now_?" Murdoc growled.

"I jus'  _am_ , alright?" 2D snapped, giving Murdoc's attitude right back to him. "I need to know-"

"It's a stupid song!" Murdoc shouted, "You weren't ever meant to see it.  _No one_  was!"

"Then why does it exist?" 2D asked. "Why didn't you burn it?"

"Tuss," Murdoc warned, glaring at him through his dark hair.

"Why don't you go burn it right now?" 2D pressed, "What's stopping you?"

"Tuss..." Less of a warning, more of a plea. Murdoc's eyes softened, and his hands ran down 2D's spine, roughly holding him against his body.

Somehow, 2D understood completely.  _Don't do this_ , he was saying.  _We could continue if you stopped right here. If you let this go, we could pretend you never mentioned the song, never saw it, and take the road that so obviously leads to mind-blowing sex._

Though every physical fiber of 2D's being wanted to take that road, he couldn't do it. He couldn't let it go.

"Who do you love?" 2D whispered.

Everything shattered.

For a split second, Murdoc looked almost disappointed. Then, he pulled his mask back over his face and showed nothing but a hateful frown.

Then came the fist.

Murdoc shoved 2D away from him and punched him in the face. 2D fell over, clutching his now bleeding nose. Before he could recover, an angry hand grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked him back up. Murdoc stared daggers into his soul, his teeth bared in fury.

"This isn't some fucking game you can play on me," he hissed. The fact that he wasn't yelling made 2D even more terrified. It made the anger more palpable. "You think you know what's going on but you don't have a fucking clue. Not a single  _fucking_  one. Stop acting like you understand me, and get over yourself."

Murdoc roughly shoved 2D against the wall and abruptly stood up. Water cascaded from him, and without waiting for it all to fall back into the tub, Murdoc got out. He gathered his clothes and made a beeline for the door.

"Where are you going?" 2D asked dully.

"Far away," Murdoc spat.

"From what?" said 2D, "We're at the furthest point-"

"From  _you_ ," Murdoc clarified. With that he left, slamming the door behind him.

2D quietly washed the rest of his body off. He scrubbed the sweat and grime from the fever away, cleaned the oil and lint from his hair, and otherwise made sure he was spotless. Then he kicked at the drain until it gurgled, and the water began to steadily disappear into the pipes.

He stayed in the tub long after the last of the water was gone, staring at the empty space Murdoc had occupied back when he hadn't yet pushed him away. He stayed until his hair had gone from dripping to damp, until his nose stopped bleeding and his eyes begun to sting from an unhealthy lack of blinks.

All the while he rubbed his fingers over his lips, swearing he could still feel Murdoc's own against them.


	10. Panic Attack

2D sat on the couch in the living room, staring blankly at the TV. It wasn't that he was expecting to find anything worth watching. In fact it was the opposite. He  _wanted_  to melt his brain with mindless reality shows. He  _wanted_  to cynically judge each program, and slowly lose his faith in humanity, because it gave him something to focus on.

He didn't want to think about how confused he was. How much regret he felt after pushing Murdoc away. How unsure he was of Murdoc's feelings for him, if there  _were_  any. And if there were, where would they go from here? Was there anywhere  _to_  go?

"Ugh!" 2D groaned, rolling over onto the carpeted floor. He lay there, face sunken in the rough fibers, feeling like a pathetic teenaged girl. Look at him, throwing a hissy fit like that would make all his problems go away...

2D wiggled his limbs pathetically, like some kind of washed-up squid. He pulled his face into a pout.

"Why do you have to ruin everything?" he mumbled to himself. "He kissed you... He  _kissed_  you and you pushed him away..."

_Maybe it's for the best, though. After all, that kiss meant nothing. You could feel it, couldn't you? Taste it. There was only hunger there, nothing... passionate. Nothing subtle. He wanted you, but not actually you. Just... you. The physical shell. This is a man that can fuck anything and feel no guilt. Going so long without proper sex must make him desperate. You just happened to be there._

_You're nothing but another hole for him to shove his knob into._

2D whined and buried his head into the crooks of his elbows. Suddenly the dwarfs were back, banging away in his head, mining all his little diamonds and jewels away.

What he meant was, he was having a headache. Not one of the bad ones. He hadn't had one of those in a long, long time. Probably had something to do with Murdoc not being there to confuse the hell out of him.

He dragged his fingers through his blue hair and held on, tugging at his scalp. Angry. He was so  _angry_  at Murdoc and-

But he'd provoked him, hadn't he? Out of nowhere, he'd had the urge to...  _tease_ , to break that stupid mask. He just wanted to see how far he could push him. He wanted to hold the power for once. Just  _once_ , he wanted to ask Murdoc a question and get a  _real_  answer.

Well, he'd asked the question, and got a sort of half-answer. At least Murdoc could get it up for him, right? That was something...

"Is something wrong?"

2D jumped up from the carpet, startled at how close the voice was. Yukimi was perched delicately on the arm of one of the couches, staring down at him with an amused grin. He hadn't heard her come in.

"N-no," 2D said cautiously. "E-everything's fine."

"Really?" said Yukimi with a slight raise of her eyebrow. "Because even during my worst moments I don't think I've ever flopped around on the floor like a dying fish."

2D gulped and picked himself up into a somewhat dignified sitting position, his cheeks a rosy pink. He cleared his throat.

"Why are you here?" he asked wearily.

"I dunno," she said, examining her nails, "Maybe it has something to do with me being kidnapped and taken here against my will."

"O-oh," 2D mumbled, "R-right. A-actually, I just meant..."

She smiled. "Relax, man, I'm only playing." She looked up at him from her nails. "You meant here in this room, right now. I'm here to watch you."

"Watch me?" 2D asked.

"Yeah," said Yukimi, hopping down from the arm of the couch, nimble as a cat. "Murdoc told me to lock you up in your room and make sure you didn't try to escape while he was gone. He seemed kind of pissed, if I recall. I wonder what you did."

"He's always pissed," 2D mumbled, frowning, but Yukimi turned his lips around when she chuckled warmly.

"I gathered that," she said. She walked over to the windows and stared out onto the sea. She'd let her hair down from it's bun and was playing with one of the curls. 2D waited for her to speak, but she didn't.

"Please don't take me back," he said softly, "I don't want to be trapped in that horrible place again."

She turned and stared at him with something like sympathy, though it was less pitiful, less annoying.

"I wasn't planning to," she said. "In fact, I was going to help you escape."

She ran her fingers along the frame of the window and found a small latch 2D hadn't noticed before. She turned it and, with a gentle push, the glass swung outward.

At first, a foul-smelling stench entered the room. It smelled like gas stations. Motor oil, grease, and car fumes. The smell of all the oil that acted like glue to the island, holding all the bits of plastic together. After the initial stench, a cool breeze drifted into the room, knocking all the bad air away. It was the smell of the clean ocean beyond the beach. The smell of freedom.

2D closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _I could do it_ , he thought.  _This place isn't my home. I'd like to go home. But..._

"I can't," he said, letting his head fall forward.

Yukimi remained silent. 2D could feel her eyes on him, though he couldn't guess her expression. Was she gawking in disbelief? Confused? Disgusted that 2D could refuse such an offer? When the silence stretched on for too long, and he'd gathered enough courage, he slowly looked back up at her, peeking through the blue strands of his hair.

She was smiling, a look of deep respect and understanding in her simple, pretty eyes.

_Of course she was._

"I know," she said. She closed the window. "I was just making sure my gut wasn't lying to me."

2D raised an eyebrow, questioning her words.

"You like Murdoc," she said, a slow smirk spreading across her face, "Don't you?"

Any smile 2D might have been wearing fell quicker than a prostitute drops her clothes. All the blood drained from his face except for in his cheeks. Something cold and chilling swept through him, right down to his bones.

_How do you know? I've never told a soul, not even Noodle. You're so much like her, but now you're far more different, because you have my biggest secret. You know something I couldn't even tell my friend, my sister. You didn't earn this. If anyone did, it was her!_

So many questions, so many reactions. 2D tried to pick one and let it out of his mouth so Yukimi could know of his fear, his anger, his worry.

"Outdyahknow," was all that came out of his mouth. A small, strange little murmur that was accompanied by the pains of embarrassment deep within his gut. Breathing became optional, and he soon forgot it was ever mandatory.

His knees hit the floor and his entire body began to shake. Was he having a panic attack? Well it made sense, didn't it? Serves him right for keeping such a secret buried so deep for so long. He'd let it become a part of him, a vital piece in his foundation. He and only he knew about this wrong, disgusting attraction for one of the world's most despicable people.

And now Yukimi had gone and knocked it right out from under him.

"Hey, calm down!" Yukimi touched his shoulder and made sure their eyes were connected. "Your secret's safe with me."

2D slowly began to breathe properly again. He stopped trembling, and used what little strength he had to scoot cautiously away from her. He only stopped when his back hit the side of the couch. Yukimi frowned.

"I mean it, 2D," she assured him, "I swear, I won't tell a soul."

There was truth in her eyes, and that was all 2D needed to fully calm down. He pulled his knees up to his chest and hid his face, embarrassed beyond words.

"I didn't realize it was that big a secret," Yukimi explained gently, "I wouldn't have said it like that if I knew."

"I'm fucked up," 2D mumbled into his sleeves. "Aren't I?"

"Why do you say that?"

2D popped his head back out from its hiding place and stared at a wall.

"He's a monster," 2D said, "He kidnaps me and locks me up with my deepest fear. He makes promises to demons and doesn't bother to keep them. He replaces my friend, a girl I thought was the closest thing to a child he'd ever have... with a  _robot_. And I-... I..."

"You love him?" Yukimi offered.

"Too strong a word," 2D said immediately, shaking his head. "Makes me sound like I want to marry 'im and have 'is kids or something."

"You like him?" Yukimi tried again.

"That word's too soft," 2D said, "Makes me sound like a school girl."

2D watched Yukimi's face scrunch up as she tried to think of another word for it. The corner of 2D's mouth twitched as he was hit by a sudden wave of nostalgia.

"It's funny, innit?" 2D said. "I've been doing what you're doing now for years. Trying to think of the right word to use. I don't  _like_  him, I don't  _love_  him, but..."

"You understand him," Yukimi finished. 2D stared at his feet, wiggling his toes within the colorful socks. He'd made sure they didn't match.

"I don't know about that," he mumbled. "Sometimes I'm convinced he's just as mental as I am. All of us are, really. We're like the worst kind of dysfunctional family."

"What I mean is," Yukimi said, amused, "You get him. You may not know what goes on in his head most of the time, or why or how it can, but you understand that it does, and that it makes him...  _him_. You don't judge, you see past the flaws and even when you don't know whether he's looking back at you, you're always facing him."

2D swallowed. "That's too many words."

Yukimi laughed. "You're right. But what I said earlier, about the understanding. That works for now, doesn't it?"

2D shrugged. Then, "I  _am_  fucked up, aren't I? For...  _understanding_  someone like him."

"I think you two would make a great couple," Yukimi said brightly. 2D snickered.

"Really?" he said, smiling sadly, "'Cos I'm pretty sure he hates me." 2D paused, blinking. "Like,  _actually_  hates me..."

"I bet he doesn't," said Yukimi. "In fact, I'd go so far as to say he 'understands' you back. In his own way, of course."

"Yeah, well," 2D said, trying to sound confident, "I'll... b-bet he doesn't. Er, that is, he doesn't  _not_  hate me... I think..."

He wasn't good at sounding confident.

"You know," said Yukimi, a sudden mischievous grin spreading across her face. "There are ways of finding this stuff out..."

"I 'ent gonna ask him."

"I don't mean asking," said Yukimi. "Girls have a few... tricks up our sleeves for these kind of situations. You know, games we play..."

"W-what..." 2D mumbled, unsure, "What kind of games do you play?"

Just then, the door burst open, slamming into the wall and almost flying off its hinges. 2D and Yukimi both jumped, heads whipping around to the door.

Murdoc stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

"'Ello, kiddies," he said casually, smirking at their reactions. "It's time to make some music, don't you think?"

Yukimi suddenly leaned in close to 2D, her mouth brushing up against his ear. The sensation startled him, and without meaning to, he blushed.

"Games like this," she whispered so only 2D could hear. She twirled a piece of his blue hair in between her fingers, tugging playfully. "I'll explain later."

Then she pulled away and stood up, walking swiftly out toward the door, heading down the hall and for the lift. 2D sat staring at the carpet before him, wondering what kind of game  _that_  was, and how on Earth it'd prove to 2D that Murdoc liked him.

He glanced up at the bassist, and shrunk back against the side of the couch. Murdoc was fighting hard to keep his expression straight. The mask began to chip here and there. 2D thought he saw a hint of something like...  _fire_  hiding beneath it, but Murdoc turned and stormed after Yukimi before 2D could be sure.

2D got up and headed for the lift. As he waited for it to come back down for him, he sorted through everything he had just received. For one, Yukimi now knew his deepest, darkest secret. Second, she didn't think 2D was strange for liking someone as generally repulsive as Murdoc (and even seemed to think it was  _sweet_ ). Third, she seemed to have a plan of action that could help decide if 2D should even dare to hope for the impossible.

As the lift doors dinged, 2D was able to make one solid conclusion.

Having someone to share your deepest, darkest secret with was much more of a relief than a burden.


	11. Empire Ants

_Oh joys are us the sun has come again to hold you_  
_Sailing out the doldrums of the week_  
_The polyphonic prayer is here it's all around you_  
_It's all around you out here_

Empire Ants was not a happy song, though it tried valiantly to be one. The mood was like a roller coaster, picking you up and then dropping you, over and over. Its lyrics swerved in and out of meaning, in and out of sense. Yet 2D could tell just by reading them that Murdoc had spent countless hours fine-tuning them, choosing his words carefully.

After reading the song through, 2D felt a peculiar feeling wash over him. He didn't want it to end, so he read it again. It was like the song was a really good book, as Noodle would say.

Just like that, the memory came to him. Dug up from the rusty, banged-up hard drive of his mind, held up to the light like a gemstone.

 _It's a cold day in December, even in Kong Studios. Or, as some would argue,_ especially _in Kong Studios._

_Noodle and 2D were having a rare, quiet moment. Murdoc had gone into town to get wasted beyond recognition, and Russel had gone with him to make sure he didn't get himself killed._

_The two had gathered in the only room of the entire warehouse that provided any semblance of warmth: the basement. Only because it was so close to the gates of Hell, 2D presumed._

_Noodle was curled up on one of the massive leather chairs they'd dragged in, reading a thin paperback book titled "A Wrinkle in Time" by someone named Madeleine L'e... L'erng... Whatever. This 'Madeleine' had a funny last name._

_2D normally didn't like to disturb her when she was reading, as it usually earned him an annoyed glare. This time, for some reason, he couldn't hold back a question that had been eating at him._

_"Why do you read so much, Noodle?" he asked, his voice echoing off the walls. He hardly ever read books (and when he did, they had to have pictures or he deemed them useless), and it was strange how Noodle seemed to revere them with absolute adoration._

_The girl looked up from her book as if she'd just remembered he was there with her. She asked him to repeat the question, and he patiently obeyed. When he asked it again, a slight smile grew on the girl's pretty face, and she gently closed the book._

_"I read because it allows me to experience what the characters are going through. It takes me to, uh, a faraway place."_

_"So, like, an escape?"_

_"Yes, almost," she continued. Noodle's heavy accent made it hard for him to understand her sometimes, so he leaned in. "But it is not always peaceful. For example, sometimes I am taken to dungeons, or prison cells, or dangerous forests with the characters. So, in some ways, it is not, uh,_ entirely _for the escape."_

_"Why would you wanna go to dungeons and prison cells and dangerous forests if you can just stay here?" 2D asked._

_"For the adventure," said Noodle with her signature grin._

_"That doesn't seem healthy," said 2D._

_Noodle looked down fondly at the book in her lap._

_"It is hard to explain," said Noodle, "To someone who does not read very often. But I will try." She took a breath and thought for a moment. After a short while her face brightened and she turned to him. "You can always tell if a book is well-written, because you fall in love with the characters. You start to think of them as real people. So, when you finish the book, and the time comes where you have to wave goodbye to all your new friends, it is a very sad thing. But also, I find, very beautiful."_

_She looked up at 2D._

_"That is why I read, Toochi," she said, "To fall in love with the characters, and, eventually, to say goodbye."_

2D's hands gripped the music sheets tightly, trembling.  _But I don't want to say goodbye. Not to you, not to the song, not to anyone._

"2D? Are you ready?"

2D looked up to see Yukimi standing over him, waiting patiently for his answer.

"Oh," he muttered, "Sure..."

2D glanced around for Murdoc, and spotted him right away. The bassist was sitting on his throne of a chair (the giant comfy one), one leg draped over the arm and one lazily dragging along the floor. In his lap sat an instrument 2D hadn't seen in years. "El Diablo". Murdoc's prized bass. Won in a deal between himself and Lucifer.

Looking at it made 2D a bit nervous. It always had, even before he knew what Murdoc had done to get it. The thing seemed alive, watching him with unseen eyes, judging him and all his imperfections.

Still, it was a musical instrument and it made the most wicked sounds 2D had ever heard a bass make. It was essential to their quality of music.

"What's that for?" asked 2D. Only when Murdoc's eyes flashed a glare at him did he remember their little tryst earlier this morning in the bathroom... 2D's cheeks heated up, and all the worry flooded back into 2D's mind.

"' _Wot's dat for_?'," Murdoc mocked him, squealing in a high-pitched voice. After a scoff, he returned to his normal voice. "What the hell do you think, moron? It's an instrument. You play it when you want music to come out. Or did you forget that when Richard Simmons fucked your arse?"

"I only  _meant_ ," 2D spoke slowly, holding back a glare. "Why do you have it out? En't we recording Empire Ants?"

"We are," said Murdoc, plucking a few low, lazy notes. "But I figured we could use the practice."

2D glanced over to Yukimi, who met his eyes and shrugged. 2D sighed, deciding not to waste energy arguing.

"Noodle!" Murdoc screamed out of nowhere, making both singers jump at least five feet into the air. "Get your metallic arse in here!"

Not a minute later, the robot arrived at the Studio. Slung around her shoulders was yet another instrument 2D hadn't seen in years. A yellow Fender Telecaster.

 _Noodle's_  yellow Fender Telecaster.

Polished to a shine.

2D ground his teeth together, staring between the instrument and the false replica of the girl who used to own it. Still  _did_  own it. How dare that machine even  _think_  about touching Noodle's guitar?!

"Ah, there you are!" Murdoc cried, sweeping his arm in a long, welcoming arc. "Come over here, love. Queue Track Seven. It's in there, right?"

The Cyborg cocked her head to the side and gave a startling little twitch, a blue spark flying from her neck before she righted herself. Then, she opened her mouth.

And  _spoke_.

"Track: Zero Seven. Title: Empire Ants. Data: confirmed."

The one thing Murdoc seemed to leave out in his shameless copy of Noodle was the girl's voice. This Cyborg may look like Noodle, but she sounded like a computer. Heartless, emotionless. 2D held onto it like a vice. Without her voice, this robot replica was nothing.

"Brilliant," said Murdoc, "Let's see how she sounds, shall we?"

Cyborg closed the Studio doors, plugging in Noodle's guitar. Yukimi started humming a few warm-up vocals, her beautiful voice filling the room. Murdoc made sure his bass was tuned, then nodded to Cyborg. The robot nodded once, snapping to attention at Murdoc's slightest command. She walked over to the controls and tapped a few buttons expertly. Then, as she walked back to her spot, she took hold of the guitar and began to play, not missing a single chord.

Thankfully, she didn't play like Noodle either. When Noodle played her guitar, particularly that Fender Telecaster, she was almost always smiling. If not, she was concentrated, staring down at her fingers as they glided over the strings, her tongue sticking out of her mouth. Up until now, 2D had always associated that yellow guitar with happiness and a passion for music. A desire to become better, to do your best in doing what you love. Now, that image was being ruined by Cyborg's emotionless perfection.

" _Oh joys are us, the sun has come again to hold you_ ," 2D sang sorrowfully, closing his eyes. " _Sailing out the doldrums of the week_..."

When his first verse was done, a slight pause in his vocals, he opened his eyes. Murdoc sat directly before him, his own eyes closed as well. His hands rested on El Diablo, waiting for his bass part to come in sometime in the second verse. 2D noticed the slight upward curl at the corner of his mouth, the twitching eyebrows, and somehow knew what they meant.

_You may be an annoying ponce, 2D, but hell if that voice isn't magic._

" _And if the whole world is crashing down on you_ ," 2D continued, looking down at his feet to hide the tiny smiling threatening to show on his face. " _Fall through space out of mind with me_..."

His thoughts didn't stay optimistic for long. A single glance at Cyborg's bored face reminded him of everything that was wrong with this scene. Russel should be here, tapping delicately at his cymbals to the music. Noodle should be here, smiling down at her fingers as she played her Fender Telecaster. Both had been replaced by machines.

" _Where the emptiness we leave behind, on warm air rising_ ," sang 2D, hands shaking by his sides. " _Blows all the shadows far away_..."

2D waved his fingers, frowning down at them as if they, too, were blowing away from the emptiness.

" _The falling of the whole empire is here to hold you_ ," he continued, letting his voice carry through the room as he sang Murdoc's words true, " _Rolling out and haunted till it sleeps_..."

Just then, the song picked up, and once again 2D was moved by the fullness of it all. How they'd managed to retain so much soul in their music 2D did not know. Even removed from their home, minus two members, adding a couple of replacements, their music still seemed to be alive.

Yukimi started her piece, and 2D couldn't help but dance. Just his feet tapping along to the sudden booming bass, fingers snapping to the beat of the drums. He glanced up at Murdoc and couldn't help a smile. Right then, the bassist was  _Mona Lisa_ ,  _Persistence of Memory_ , and  _Starry Night_  all rolled into one. This image of him, playing his bass with his eyes closed, his mouth pulled into a rare smile, his head doing that shaking thing 2D loved. As if he weren't able to process the pure soul in this music and was saying:  _no, it's impossible, it's impossible_...

This should be painted, framed, and displayed for all to see and wonder at until the end of time.

" _Soon, like a wave_ ," sang Yukimi, her voice resonating deep within 2D's eardrums, planting a garden in his mind. " _Empires will fall... And closing in on you... Not building a wall_."

Suddenly, she took 2D's hand and danced, her body moving fluidly to the music. 2D followed, or tried to. His long, lanky limbs weren't exactly built to dance, but Yukimi helped him. She moved in a way that, when 2D tried, wouldn't make him knock down everything around him. He watched her intently, then began to mimic her moves. His hips swayed, his feet stepping lightly as he moved back and forth.

Pretty soon they were spinning and twirling each other around the room, abandoning all thoughts of how silly it might look. They were too lost in each other to care.

When the song ended, they collapsed onto the carpet, high with childish giddiness. Panting, they lay there smiling. Every time they tried to look at each other, they burst into laughter, their sides burning.

 _No_ , 2D thought,  _it can't be bad to have a friend_.

"Having fun, are we?"

2D looked up at Murdoc, the smile on his lips dying a slow, agonizing death. The bassist looked positively furious. He gripped the neck of El Diablo as one grips a dead turkey they'd just killed for dinner. 2D gulped, thankful it wasn't  _his_  neck that was trapped in that angry fist.

"W-we were just-" 2D began, but surprisingly, Yukimi cut him off.

"Yeah, we  _were_  having fun," she said, "Is that a problem?"

Murdoc pulled his mouth into a snarl and shot a glare at the girl. Then, he shifted it to 2D. Unprepared for a look of such anger, 2D shrunk back, turning his face away. Yukimi's games didn't seem to be working...

2D's gaze ended up on one of the giant windows of the Studio, overlooking the ocean. He spotted it right away. 'It' was a dark silhouette looming on the horizon, the sunset burning behind it.

"Is that a ship?" 2D asked, forgetting for a moment about Murdoc and Yukimi and her games.

Murdoc spun around and made a mad dash for the window. Even the Cyborg perked up, running to his side. Yukimi and 2D exchanged a glance. Why were they so tense?

"What flag are they flying?" Murdoc asked the Cyborg. "Can you see it?"

"Data: confirmed," she said, "Status: friendlies. Destination: Plastic Beach. Arrival time: Nineteen hundred thirty-two."

Murdoc straightened up, his expression shifting from one of worry to one of confusion.

"Did you say... they're  _not_  our enemies?"

"Data: confirmed," Cyborg responded, turning to him. "Orders, sir?"

"None," said Murdoc, "I'll handle this myself."

He turned away from the window and strode with purpose into the Study. He didn't even give Yukimi and 2D a second glance. Something was wrong.

2D picked himself up off the carpet and, after helping Yukimi up, they followed Murdoc into the other room. The bassist was at his desk, leaning over a small brown radio with a red button.

"What's-" 2D began, but Murdoc hushed him.

"This is Murdoc Faust Niccals, owner of Plastic Beach, 48° 52′ 36″ S, 123° 23′ 36″ W," he said, "Who the hell is this?"

Static crackled over the radio. Murdoc stared down at the machine as if he could force an answer out of it with sheer will. The seconds ticked by, and 2D and Yukimi exchanged a worried glance.

Then, the crackling grew louder. Murdoc perked up and reached to tune the frequency until a clear, eerie laughter howled from the speaker. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and Yukimi took a nervous step back, but 2D knew this laugh.

 _Remembered_  it.

2D quickly walked over to the radio and, just as the horrifying laughter died, pressed the button that allowed him to speak. He softly sang two words that he knew were meant to follow that laughter.

" _Feel good_."

Murdoc turned his head, staring at 2D with an unreadable expression.

"Yeah, 2D my man!" cried Maseo, "How you been, brotha?"

De La Soul. He hadn't heard from them since Demon Days. Way back around 2005. And now he was talking to them over a radio in the middle of nowhere.

"I'm alright," 2D smiled. And he was. Sort of.

"Yeah, yeah," said Murdoc, swatting 2D's hand away from the radio, pressing the button himself. "We can frolic through the fields of remembering later. We've got more important things to deal with. Like why you have such a huge ship. This place isn't big enough to dock that thing, you know."

"Don't worry 'bout that, Murdoc," said Posdnuos, another member of the trio. "We got lifeboats."

"Shit ton of 'em!" added Maseo. "Like- fuck, what was it? Thirty or somethin'?"

"I thought it was twenty-three?" mumbled Dave.

"Naw, man, I'm sure it was thirty," said Maseo, "Why the fuck would we have twenty-three lifeboats? What kinda random number is that?"

"Someone want to tell me why the hell you have so many lifeboats?" Murdoc growled, his limited patience dwindling fast. "And why your ship's so damn  _big_?"

"Oh, well," Posdnuos explained, "We figured your schedule was too complicated. With all of us coming and going at different times. It's not that easy to find the end of the world, y'know? So we got to thinkin', what if we just brought everyone, all at once? We could all get to know each other, make it like a... like an assorted mix, know what I'm sayin?"

"E-everyone?" At first it was a whisper. Then, Murdoc's eyes widened as he began to process exactly what he was hearing. He ground his sharp teeth together and curled his hand into a fist. He slammed it back down on the button and shouted. "Everyone?!"

"Yeah, man," Posdnuos answered. The smile in his voice was audible. " _Everyone_."


	12. Maybe

2D whistled casually as he left the kitchen and headed for the lift. With a full belly, and the entire cast of collaborators for the album about to land on Plastic Beach, 2D couldn't help but feel optimistic. He was giddy with excitement, happy that he was about to have some fun.

He'd had a serious lack of fun since his time on Plastic Beach. He'd been beaten unconscious, was starved, lived through a fever, and once, a  _gun_  had even been pointed at him. The only grain of sugar he'd received with all this salty ocean air was his new friend Yukimi.

It was about time he got to have his sunshine after the storm.

It wasn't until he reached the lift that he realized he didn't have a destination in mind. After the transmission, Murdoc had ordered him, Yukimi, and the Cyborg to make sure there were enough bedrooms, food, and whatever else the featureds might need to be satisfied. Right after he'd given the order, 2D's stomach had grumbled so loudly that everyone turned to look at him. Murdoc had sent him down to the kitchen to "eat something already, sweet Satan," and wasn't exactly  _specific_  on what he should do after he was done.

So, 2D had options.

He did know where he  _didn't_  want to go. He didn't want to go down to his cage and risk being starved again. So, he studied the lift panel, observing his options as if it were a menu at a restaurant. With a shrug, he pressed the button that lead to someplace labeled  _Roof_.

It was probably the roof.

2D clung to the walls of the lift like a cat being forced into a tub filled with water, but surprisingly, the lift took him right to the floor without making a fuss. The doors opened with their usual  _ding_ , slowly parting to reveal the world.

A cold, chilling wind was the first thing 2D felt, and it was amazing. Even if it did sort of smell like dead fish and gasoline.

The first thing he saw was the sky. Swirling grey clouds occupied every inch of blue that the sky ever had to offer. The sun tried to peek out here and there, but its efforts were in vain. Today, the sky belonged to the clouds, and even though 2D preferred warm, sunny days, he couldn't be more happy to finally be outside.

Only when 2D stepped out of the lift did he notice the water.

It was raining, or drizzling, or whatever it was called. Moisture was falling from the sky, not enough to be called torrential, but enough to dampen his clothing and hair. Enough to send goosebumps rising along his exposed skin.

 _It's perfect_ , he thought.  _It's beautiful_.

And, he realized, it was the first time he'd been outside in forever.

With a sudden burst of energy, 2D ran out onto the large, open balcony, not caring at all about how wet he was getting. So high above the ocean, the scent of fish and melting plastic was miniscule. So much so that he could pretend the air he was inhaling with such vigor was as fresh as the air in mountaintops.

Running up to the railing, 2D gripped it tightly and leaned over the edge. A dense fog had set in over the water, so he couldn't see the ship he was looking for. He knew it was out there, though, steadily floating closer. Everyone on board was ready to make some noise, to send signals of their own out into the universe.

 _And maybe_ , he thought to himself,  _Noodle and Russel will find us. Maybe they'll hear our sounds and follow the music. Then they'll reach us and this broken family of ours can be whole again._

"2D?"

2D started at the sound, though it was soft, and in the distance. He turned away from the rail and saw Yukimi walking towards him. She was dressed in a big, fluffy sweater and baggy jeans. It was so unlike her usual look, which 2D had gathered was basically wearing pieces of art, but at least she was warm.

"'Ello," he said when she was close enough to hear him. "Does Murdoc know you're out here? Shouldn't you be cleaning up for the guests?"

Yukimi playfully punched him in the arm, smiling. "Shut up! And for your information, I'm done anyways. I don't care if he knows where I am. He didn't tell me to do anything else besides count things."

She mumbled something that might have been ' _I think he's senile_ '.

"Well, he didn't tell me to do anything after I stuffed my face with spaghetti and chocolate cake either," 2D pointed out. He burst into laughter when Yukimi gave him an incredulous look. "So I figured I could just come out here and relax."

"You little  _weasel_!" she whispered harshly, as if anyone would hear them out here. "I hope you enjoyed yourself." She pouted, but after a moment of hearing 2D's howling, silly laughter, she couldn't help but join in.

When their laughter died down, Yukimi joined him on the railing. They stood in silence for a while, just enjoying the sound of waves crashing against the plastic shore. When Yukimi next spoke, it almost jolted 2D out of a trance.

"There aren't enough beds," said Yukimi absently, staring into the murky ocean below. "We're one short."

"Really?" asked 2D, "So what'll happen to that remaining person? Where will they sleep?"

"Don't know," said Yukimi. A slow smile spread across her face. "Maybe you could sleep in my room. We can take turns sleeping on the floor, but we don't have to tell Murdoc that."

"What do you mean?"

"All we have to do is share the room," said Yukimi, adopting a mischievous grin, "Murdoc's dirty mind will do the rest. Imagine the look on his face when he sees the new girl sweeping his singer off his feet!"

2D could tell she was enjoying this, messing with Murdoc's mind, making him think things that weren't true. He still couldn't see why she thought this was a good idea. In fact, judging by the fury in Murdoc's eyes whenever she played the game, it seemed to be doing more harm than good. Did she  _want_  to piss him off?

With a sudden horror, 2D realized that she did. She was trying to push him over the edge because she thought it would lead to something good. She was trying to break his mask, just like 2D had been doing in the bathroom. Instead of teasing, she was trying to make him jealous.

As if Murdoc could  _ever_  feel jealousy towards 2D. He was Murdoc's  _property_. The bassist had made a point of telling him so, several times. He wouldn't get jealous. Instead, he'd do what he did whenever some girl tried to come into 2D's life; he'd just get angry.

Yukimi didn't know what could happen when Murdoc was mad. She hadn't been here long enough to understand the bassist's unbridled rage.

2D was about to open his mouth and tell her just how he felt about all this, how it needed to stop before things got out of hand. He was going to explain to Yukimi that her games wouldn't work on Murdoc, because, putting it simply, Murdoc was insane.

But something stopped him. Somewhere along the way from his brain to his mouth, his words got jumbled, and he knew if he tried to say what he really wanted to, it would come out like static on a radio. Messed up, unclear, broken.

So, he just settled for something easier, a response.

"But you en't sweeping me off my feet."

"That's the illusion," said Yukimi with a smirk.

2D gritted his teeth in frustration, but his mind wouldn't clear enough to cooperate.

"You jus' seem to be making him mad," he tried, and somehow he felt that was the closet thing to what he wanted to say.

"That's the point," she answered, a glint in her eye. "I'll make him realize his jealousy. Maybe that'll wake him up."

 _No, you don't understand_ , he wanted to cry.  _Jealousy is_ not _the same thing as anger!_

" _There_  you two are!"

They spun around. Murdoc was headed for them, looking furious. Again.

Yukimi jumped off the rail and took a step away from 2D, looking down at the floor as if she was guilty of hiding something. 2D was confused at first, but he realized what she was up to when she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. A blush rose up to 2D's cheeks at what she was pretending they had been doing, but of course that only fed into the illusion. Just like that, 2D realized he was playing the game without even intending to. Or was he?

How did girls  _do_  this all the time?

"I can see you two are getting along," growled Murdoc. He shifted his attention to Yukimi. "Did you even  _try_  to do what I told you, or were you too busy up here snogging my singer?"

2D shivered at the word my'.  _Get a hold of yourself_ , he thought, the blush still warm on his cheeks.

"There's not enough beds," said Yukimi, her voice quiet. "We're one short."

"Perfect," said Murdoc. He nodded to 2D. "He gets the couch, then."

"What do you mean?" said Yukimi, outraged. "He's already  _got_  his own room!"

"What, you think I'm gonna make Snoop Dogg sleep on the couch?" cried Murdoc, throwing his hands in the air dramatically, "They're our  _guests_. Besides, er, some of them could  _use_  a better impression of me. Seeing as how they weren't exactly...  _willing_... to come here."

"Is 2D not a guest?" Yukimi snapped, folding her arms. It was fascinating to 2D, seeing her stand up to Murdoc without fearing punishment. The only other person Murdoc had ever tolerated back-talk from was Noodle. It had been years since he'd been put in his place by a younger girl.

"He's part of the  _band_ ," said Murdoc, turning to 2D. "The dullard can freeze to death, for all I care."

"You seemed to care when he had a fever," said Yukimi. Murdoc shot her a glare, but she continued before he could respond. "And anyways, I don't mind sharing my room. He could bunk with me."

"He's better off sleeping on the couch than your sodding carpet," said Murdoc with a roll of his semi-concealed eyes.

"He wouldn't be sleeping on the carpet," said Yukimi, raising a careful eyebrow.

Realization dawned on Murdoc, and for a split second the mask was broken again. Something like surprise, and then pain swept across his face. He stared blankly at her, his eyes wide, his jaw clenched, before he pulled the mask back over his face.

"What's wrong with him sleeping on the couch?" said Murdoc, folding his arms across his chest and staring out into sea.

"What's wrong with him sleeping with  _me_?" Yukimi challenged. Murdoc didn't look at her, but an sour frown grew over his features.

 _Tell her, Murdoc_ , thought some desperate, lost part of 2D. The part that still dared to hope.  _Give her an answer. Don't be afraid, show me you care. Anything,_ anything _is better than silence..._

"You don't mind the couch," he said slowly, turning to face 2D, "Do you?"

2D gulped. Maybe some things  _weren't_  better than silence.

"N-no," he said automatically, his words dying on the wind. How could he  _ever_  disagree with Murdoc? He cleared his throat and tried again, a bit louder. "No. I don't mind the couch. Really."

Murdoc smirked, looking back at Yukimi triumphantly.

"See?" he said, "He doesn't want to sleep in your sodding bed."

Yukimi didn't answer. She stared at the side of 2D's face, but he couldn't bring himself to look back at her. He knew what was going through her head, could hear her question as if she were saying it out loud.

 _Why did you submit so easily?_  she was thinking.  _Why didn't you challenge him like I did?_

She wasn't mad, she was just confused. Why wouldn't she be?

"Well," Murdoc said with a clap, the smug look still present on his face, "As much as I'd love to sit around in the rain with you two sods, I'm going back inside. Meet you down there, 2D."

2D looked up at Murdoc when he heard his name.

"Oh, yes. You're going to move your pillow and blankets and all that shit you call possessions," said Murdoc. 2D clenched his jaw, holding back the words he really wanted to say. He swallowed them down like his bitter headache pills and nodded. "That's a good boy."

Murdoc turned on his heel and strode confidently to the elevator, leaving 2D and Yukimi behind.

Her unspoken question still lingered in her gaze.

_Why did you submit so easily?_

He couldn't give her the answer. She wouldn't be able to make sense of it. How could she possibly understand how Murdoc affected 2D? The way he feared the bassist, yet...  _'understood'_  him? She couldn't know that Murdoc hit him. She couldn't know about the kiss. He was hanging by such a fragile rope, lost somewhere in the line between love and hate, and no one,  _no one_  could understand how that felt.

She also couldn't ever know how much he hated it when Murdoc did this. The bastard knew 2D didn't have it within him to say no. He never had.

But...  _could_  he?

For the first time, 2D actually considered it. What if he  _did_  talk back? Was it worth the possible bruises, the broken bones? Would he ever find the courage to stand up for himself?

These were dangerous thoughts, but they thrilled him just as much as they terrified him.  _Maybe_ , he thought,  _someday_. 'Maybe' was enough for now.

Suddenly, a loud, low sound boomed in the distance. A fog horn, 2D realized, as he perked up and glanced out toward the sea. Murdoc had turned the lighthouse on. Its bright, spinning light flashed in 2D's face every few seconds as it guided the incoming ship. 2D and Yukimi ran up to the rail once more, their thoughts temporarily forgotten.

The black bow of the ship emerged from the fog. It drifted closer to the shore. 2D could see the people walking around on the deck. They looked like ants from up here! The ship stopped about a hundred yards out, and after a while the lifeboats were deployed.

"Come on!" cried Yukimi, grabbing 2D's hand and dragging back toward the lift. She slammed her fist down on the button labelled  _Entrance_  and bounced happily. When the doors opened, a short man dressed in all white jumped out of sleep.

"The lift!" he cried fearfully. It was almost like an instinct. Then, when they ran for the door, " _¡Oye!_  Where are you going?"

Yukimi ignored him, pulling 2D up to the front door, which turned out to be a heavy iron hatch. Together they spun the wheel and heaved the hatch open, pushing until they stumbled outside, tripping over each other in their excitement.

"Who's ready to make some noise!?" cried Maseo's booming voice. He dragged out the last word.  _Nooooooise!_

2D picked himself up and looked down at the shore. He knew as soon as he saw it, this memory would be forever burned within his mind.

Maseo stood on the shore of Plastic Beach, his hands stretched dramatically in the air. The two other members of De La Soul, Dave and Posdnuos, flanked him, waving. Behind them, the rest of the guests were arriving in the lifeboats, everyone letting out battle cries of their own. Except, of course, for the few guests who were sitting stubbornly in their boats, arms crossed and their lips pulled into a frown. 2D guessed those were the few who weren't really eager to come, but had been either persuaded by Murdoc's charm or threatened by Cyborg's gun.

"What happens now?" asked 2D, though he knew the answer. Memories, fun, music.

But Yukimi surprised him.

"Now," she said, smiling wickedly, "We throw a party."


	13. Like Sticky Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this chapter features lyrics from Little Dragon's song "Twice". I didn't write them myself and I don't claim any credit nor make any profit off of this fanfiction.

In a matter of hours, Plastic Beach went from your every day floating pile of junk in the middle of nowhere to the loudest, brightest, craziest floating pile of junk in the middle of nowhere that anyone had ever seen. Of course, no one was there to see it save for the twenty-three celebrities that had made it this way.

It had been hours since the collaborators had landed on the island, and their party was in full swing. Legends like Bobby Womack, Mark E. Smith, and Snopp Dogg mingled with a few lesser-known talents, like Bashy, Kano, and Daley. 2D could barely contain his excitement as he went from artist to artist, getting to know each person he was going to work with.

They told him stories, insisted they call them by their first names, and sometime during the night, they began to share their music. 2D wasn't sure when the trend had started, but by nightfall, an area had been cleared out on the deck. Someone brought two speakers down from the Studio along with a microphone and several instruments. They took turns performing songs. Shaking hands and exchanging names was one thing, but if you really wanted to get to know a musician, you had to listen to the way they saw the world, get a feel for what kind of sounds moved them.

They did what musicians did, they expressed themselves through sound, introduced themselves with their songs.

The Hypnotic Brass Ensemble - an eight-brother group who shared the same father, and apparently the same love for music - finished their piece and bowed for the clapping audience.  _Everyone_  clapped, even those who sat grumpily in the corner, muttering about how they'd never even  _heard_  of Gorillaz until Cyborg pressed her gun against their head.

Yukimi downed the last of her beer and set the empty bottle out of the way so people wouldn't step on it. She gently tapped 2D's shoulder, and gestured for him to lean down so she could whisper something in his ear.

"Pay attention," she breathed. "This is important."

Her words were very slightly slurred, her breath thick with the sharp scent of alcohol, but she was still graceful enough not to stumble when she walked toward the "stage".

2D was nowhere near drunk, or even tipsy for that matter. Looking around him, he spotted the celebrities in various stages of disrepair. Some chatted idly in the background, and others looked like they'd drunk their weight in booze. Maseo, for example, was laying flat on the carpet, giving the occasional thumbs-up to let concerned musicians know he wasn't dead.

2D wondered if he was the only coherent person left on the island. The more he tried to prove himself wrong by searching for sober-looking people in the crowd, the more he affirmed his suspicions.

He nodded once to answer her, and then realized Yukimi had already taken her spot up front. She was holding an acoustic guitar, and stood in front of the microphone.

When she started up a soft, easy melody, everything inside 2D instantly relaxed. Even his breathing slowed, almost instinctively, to absorb the beautiful sounds she was making.

" _Twice I turn my back on you_ ," she sang, her voice very low and gentle, " _I fell flat on my face but didn't lose... Tell me where would I go... Tell me what led you on I'd love to know..._ "

2D felt his heart slow, his mind clear. He couldn't move, even if he wanted to. Rooted to the spot by her words, her voice, her melody, 2D suddenly understood what she'd meant earlier.  _Pay attention, this is important._

This was the song Murdoc first heard of hers, what swayed him to use her in his collaboration. He could tell, without really being able to explain why.

" _Was it the blue night, gone fragile_?" she sang, closing her eyes as the music took her over. She dropped her voice an octave for the next line. " _Was it both men, in wonder steady going under..._ "

2D turned his gaze skyward as she continued. His eyes found the stars. So numerous, so unbelievably bright out here where there were no cities to extinguish the soft, fragile starlight. His thoughts drifted to Murdoc. Surprisingly fitting, he thought, how his mind thought of Murdoc when he looked at the stars.

" _Was it the light ways, so frightening_?" sang Yukimi. " _Was it two wills, one mirror holding us dearer now..._ "

He saw the dark, often greasy curls of Murdoc's hair and thought with a sickening pleasure just how nice it would be to run his fingers through them with abandon. He saw the mismatched eyes that had seen so much pain, and yet had to pretend so often that they had not. The bags underneath accounted for this.

" _Thought I had an answer once, but your random ways swept me along_ ," Yukimi continued, still strumming gently on the guitar. So much like Noodle, up there on that island as she played her last melody. But this was a different song, and a very different island. " _Colossal signs so I got lost, with so many lovers singing soft..._ "

It was a song with a question, and a story that had taken years to tell, was still unfolding as she sang. It was her story, but as 2D looked away from the stars and back on the pretty face of his new friend, he realized it was his as well. The question she was singing was for someone else, but it held the same tone. A swell of emotion so powerful it left numbness in its wake.

The question was:  _Do you love me?_

There was no answer Murdoc could ever give him that would not bring tears to his eyes.

And suddenly there was an inspiration, an urge. To run to him, ask him a question he'd never dared to  _pretend_  existed. He wanted happy tears, not hopeless ones.

Yukimi's music faded as he turned his back on her and walked away. He stumbled through the crowd until there was none. An open living room stretched before him, darkness daring him to find the door he sought.

 _Was it the blue night_  
_Gone fragile?_  
_Was it both men_  
_In wonder, steady goin' under_

Hands felt along the walls, making a squeaking noise as they slid over glass windows. Eventually, they settled on a door. Soon after, they found the knob. Turning it, 2D pushed and squinted into the solid darkness of the hallway.

_Where are you going?_

"To see him," he answered his own thoughts out loud.

_Why?_

" _Was it the light ways_ ," Yukimi's voice resonated through the living room, the speakers amplifying her voice. " _So frightening? Was it two wills, one mirror, holdin' us dearer now..._ "

"That's why."

He stepped forward, his hands once more feeling along the walls. His feet clanked on the grated metal floor, echoing slightly. The door to the living room shut behind him, stealing the last of the light, as well as the last of the music.

He walked in silence, his mind skipping like a stone thrown along the surface of a lake. Random thoughts seeped into his mind like unwanted strangers, forcing him into confusion. By the time he reached Murdoc's bedroom door (which was a hatch, really, just another hatch), he'd forgotten why he was here and what he had hoped to accomplish.

He stared at the door for a long minute, as if it would shrink under his gaze and tell him what he wanted to know. It didn't.  _Doors don't talk, 2D._

He grabbed two of the spokes on the wheel of the hatch and heaved, turning it open. He stumbled into the dark room and closed the hatch behind him. He waited for Murdoc to yell at him, to demand why he'd just entered his room without asking, but it never came. In fact, Murdoc didn't even pause in his bass playing (he was playing a slower, slightly out of tune version of Feel Good Inc., of all things). 2D turned around to face him, and to find out why.

As soon as his eyes landed on Murdoc, he knew the answer. Murdoc was laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his bass in his lap as he strummed lazily. He was beyond wasted. 2D could see it in his eyes, smell it on his breath, all the way from the door.

"Beyond wasted" was what 2D called a specific point in Murdoc's drinking. It was when he'd had so much to drink that he could almost pass for sober, like he'd broken through to the other side and had lost almost all signs of drunkenness. In his state he appeared coherent, and wouldn't even slur too much. Like he'd morphed into a nicer version of himself.

"Murdoc," 2D began without knowing what to say.

Thankfully, the bassist hushed him. He sat up, continuing to play his bass. He looked at 2D expectantly. When 2D stared back at him, Murdoc sighed.

"Sing," he commanded.

" _Cities breaking down on a_ -" he began, but Murdoc shook his head.

"No, not that part," he said, "You know. The chorus, blud."

"You en't playing the right instrument for that," said 2D. He needed Noodle's acoustic guitar to sing it right.

Murdoc grunted and pulled the bass over his head, resting it on its stand. He stood up and walked to the other side of his room, grabbing an acoustic from a small collection of guitars and basses along the wall. Then he sat back down and tuned the thing, muttering to himself. 2D walked cautiously toward him, wondering if it was safe to sit down on his bed. He didn't take the chance.

Finally, Murdoc tuned the instrument and strummed it, trying to get the melody right. 2D didn't blame him. They'd played this song so much they'd become sick of it, and hadn't practiced in years. When Murdoc finally got the melody right, 2D obeyed.

" _Windmill, windmill, for the land_ ," he sang, " _Learn forever, hand in hand..._ "

As he sang the chorus to Feel Good Inc., he glanced over at Murdoc, and was taken back once more. Glass before him, a window in a tower so high they had to be brought up to it by helicopters. It was the look in Murdoc's eyes, the slight frown of concentration he wore, and the way he looked down at his strumming fingers. As strange as it may seem, he couldn't deny it. Hard, angry, violent Murdoc was reminding him of soft, sweet, peaceful Noodle.

When the chorus was done, both of them stopped playing. De La Soul was just in the other room. They could have brought them in and replicated the song as it should have been. Less melancholy, less depressing. But they didn't. 2D understood why Murdoc had asked him to sing the chorus, without having to ask. They both needed this. This reminder of who they were, who they weren't kidding.

All these collaborations would make amazing music, enhance the songs Murdoc wrote. But when you peeled back the layers, when you left them out of the music, it really came down to the four of them. The four that was now two, and probably would be two for quiet some time.

They had needed the reminder now, before they lost themselves in the collaborators tomorrow morning. Before they fleshed out this album and told the fans of their long-awaited return. They needed to remember who they were.

"I should have given her more credit," Murdoc broke the silence. 2D jumped slightly, glancing at him. "Noodle, I mean. For that song."

2D swallowed, not sure what to say.

"I was always taking the credit from her," he continued. "She was such a brilliant girl. She deserved better."

 _You mean 'is'_ , thought 2D,  _and 'deserves'._

Talk of Noodle reminded him of what he didn't know, and what Murdoc might. He figured now was the best time to ask.

"Where is she?" he asked Murdoc.

When he noticed the sadness in Murdoc's eyes, he wished he hadn't asked. He was afraid of the answer. Had been for all these years. Was he ready for a confirmation that she was dead? Was he willing to accept what he'd pushed away for so long?

"She's not dead," said Murdoc, still not looking at 2D. "If that's what you're asking."

2D felt a massive weight fall off his shoulders, a huge gust of air leave his lungs.

"I knew it," he whispered, "I knew she was somewhere safe."

"She's not somewhere safe, either," said Murdoc. All the coils of worry that had gripped 2D for so long came right back. Before 2D could ask the obvious question, Murdoc answered. "I don't know where she is. The last I heard of her was a transmission she left us back at Kong. She's either out there somewhere, living a happy life, wondering where we all are, or..."

2D prompted him with a slight raise of his eyebrows. Murdoc looked down at the acoustic in his arms. He seemed to be cradling it.

"Or what?" 2D whispered. He couldn't have talked any louder if he tried.

Murdoc looked up at him, his dark eyes burning with sadness.

"Or she's in Hell," he finished.

"That was jus' a rumor," said 2D, feeling his blood turn icy in his veins.

"It was a true rumor," said Murdoc. "I tried to save her. I did... But by the time I got down there, it was too late. She'd entered Trial."

"Trial?"

Murdoc set the guitar down on the bed and stood up, walking over to one of his massive windows. 2D noticed the moonlight bouncing off Murdoc's cheeks, reflecting in his hair, and realized quietly that the clouds of today had blown away to allow the moon to shine down on Plastic Beach.

"Trial's what happens to people who are dragged to Hell, but can't be punished because they're too pure," Murdoc explained, shoving his hands into his pockets. "It's supposed to expose you to cruelties your pure heart couldn't imagine, to ruin your innocence and introduce to you fear, pain, and hopelessness. Only when you're utterly destroyed can they punish you for eternity. Unless of course you manage to keep your sanity by the end. If that happens, Satan himself restores your body, brings you back from the dead, and lets you out."

2D's knuckles were white, his teeth ached, his stomach felt sick. Noodle. Pure, loving, understanding Noodle was being tortured. No. She wasn't. Maybe she'd escaped. Maybe she'd survived Trial, had managed to maintain her purity, her capacity for love.

"She made it," said 2D, "Didn't she? You know she did."

"She's a smart girl," said Murdoc, not looking at him. "A tough girl. She wouldn't ever let us down."

Their words seemed useless.

Murdoc walked over to his nightstand and grabbed a bottle of rum, taking a long swig before clanking it back down on the wood. He plopped back down on his bed, letting out a heavy sigh. His head turned weakly toward 2D.

"Come here," said Murdoc, reaching for him with a lazy arm. 2D blinked, taking a tentative step toward him. "Closer, dullard. I'm not going to bite you."

2D obeyed, walking right up to Murdoc's bed. The bassist reached for his face, frowning when 2D flinched. 2D closed his eyes, wondering if maybe he'd been wrong about Murdoc being beyond wasted. Icy fingers touched his cheek, stroking gently. 2D shivered, but it wasn't because Murdoc's fingers were cold.

"Cyborg!" Murdoc yelled suddenly, once again scaring 2D. The robot entered a few seconds later, and 2D wondered if she was programmed with superhearing. Murdoc could be anywhere on the island and she'd still come to him when he called her. Or at least it seemed that way.

She snapped to attention, her hand coming up to her forehead as she waited for Murdoc's orders.

"Tell them to cut the music," said Murdoc, "We don't want to attract any  _unwanted attention_ , do we?"

Cyborg's face hardened and she shook her head vigorously.

"Response: No, sir," she said, her computer voice sounding as emotionless as ever, despite her frown.

"Dismissed," said Murdoc. The robot turned on her heel and marched out of the room, closing the hatch behind her.

"Unwanted attention?" 2D questioned.

Murdoc shook his head. "Never mind about that," he said. Seeing 2D's expression, he hastily added, "Another time, perhaps."

2D nodded. He yawned, starting to back away from the bassist.

"I should get some sleep," 2D muttered, heading for the door. He jerked to a halt suddenly, and looked down at his wrist. His eyes slowly followed the arm, eventually landing on Murdoc's face.

"You don't...  _have_  to sleep on the couch," said the bassist.

"You told me I had to," said 2D.

"Well, now you don't," Murdoc said, sounding a bit frustrated. "I changed my mind."

"So I can sleep in my room?"

"No, I gave your room to Womack."

"Where will I sleep, then?"

Murdoc raised an eyebrow, glancing pointedly down at his bed. A blush rose to 2D's face.

"N-no, that's fine, I'll-" he began, but Murdoc cut him off.

"We're all that's left," said Murdoc, his voice quiet. "We need to stick together. Like... like, er... sticky things."

2D blinked. Sticky things? He could only imagine how much Murdoc had drunk this one night.

"Sometimes," said Murdoc, already beginning to lose his coherence. "Sometimes the line between... what's real, and what's not real... It gets blurry. If it gets too blurry, it's suffocating. It's terrif- er, it's unnerving. You get what I'm saying?"

2D shook his head, but Murdoc laid down anyways. He patted the bed beside him, gesturing for 2D to get in. After a moment, 2D let out a sigh and obeyed. He didn't really want to go anyways.

Murdoc kept his distance, but he turned to face his singer. 2D watched as his eyes slowly drooped, his mouth going a bit slack. He was falling asleep. Before he was fully gone, Murdoc stretched an arm out towards 2D, grabbing a tuft of his blue hair. He wrapped it around his finger, playing absently with the strands. As the last of his energy petered out, he whispered something that 2D was barely able to catch.

"I just need to know you're real..."


	14. Colorful Surrender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so just a fair warning this chapter includes guy sex, and I've got a more kid-friendly version on my deviantart account if you prefer that version to read. My username is obsessed9fangrl there. Enjoy!

The sky was grey when 2D opened his eyes.  _Too grey to just be another cloudy day_ , he thought.  _And too early to wake up_.

He closed his eyes again and smiled blissfully, snuggling closer to Murdoc.

His eyes flew open.

_Murdoc?!_

He struggled to sit up, to jump off of the bed. He had to apologize and run away and beg for mercy and oh god what was he  _doing_  in Murdoc's room-

"Mmph..."

2D froze. His teeth gritted in fear. He slowly looked down at the arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Watching them, he tried to pull away. They wrapped tighter around him, pulling him back down onto the bed.

He knew how much danger he was in, how many bruises he'd wear for the next week if Murdoc woke up now. He was a mouse in a lion's den, waiting for the beast to wake up so it could devour him, bones and all.

And yet, a part of him was thrilled. Wasn't this what he'd wanted for years? To wake up one fine morning and be graced with the surprise that he was curled up against Murdoc in bed?

Of course, he'd never actually thought this day would  _come_...

2D wasn't particularly intelligent, but he was a dreamer. His hope knew no bounds. To him, there was always,  _always_  a light at the end of a tunnel. That was just how he saw the world, how he saw everything.

Everything, of course, except for this.

This was the one thing he wanted and the only thing he thought he couldn't have. This innocent hope he was constantly giving to everyone was useless when he tried to use it on himself.

Suddenly, Murdoc shifted behind him. He snuggled against 2D like a child to a teddy bear.

 _Death, imminent death_ , 2D's thoughts warned. Murdoc was readying for the kill. A snake coiling up like a spring, a cat getting ready to pounce. As soon as the bassist opened his eyes this would all be over. This safety, these fantasies, this wish that could never be granted. It would float away like dust, and be replaced by screams, scratches, and broken things.

He felt scared. He felt hopeless. He felt... something rubbing up against his arse.

Something hard, and impossibly hot...

2D's cheeks bloomed with bright pink as he realized what Murdoc was doing in his sleep. He didn't move. He didn't make a sound. He just laid there, staring ahead of him and seeing nothing except for colors. Mostly reds this time, and oranges, and yellows. The colors of fire. Not raging flames, but something softer. The dull, calm burn of coals, glowing in and out of bright, hot colors.

He shivered.  _Something_  was burning within him, and it wasn't coals. With a tight feeling of embarrassment, 2D glanced down at his crotch. A hard bulge greeted him, pushing against his too-tight jeans. He was already ready for Murdoc to do unspeakable things to him.

 _Go away_ , he hissed in his mind,  _you're the last thing I need right now!_

"Ah..." Murdoc breathed suddenly into 2D's ear.

2D bit his lip, his eyes closing as he tried to concentrate. Things were getting out of hand. He needed to stop this before it was too late. Who cared if he left this room with a few bruises? It was better than a heart full of regret.

"Murdoc, wake up..." 2D tried to sound firm, but his voice cracked. "S-stop..."

"Why the fuck  _should_  I?" Murdoc responded, whispering directly into 2D's ear. How long had he been awake? Why wasn't he beating the singer within an inch of his life? 2D didn't have time to wonder, because a moment later Murdoc's long, warm tongue dragged slowly and deliberately along the singer's bare neck.

2D barely managed to contain a soft  _you're right, keep going..._

"B-because," 2D began. Murdoc didn't pause in his teasing. His hips kept grinding deliciously against 2D's arse and his tongue kept stroking each sensitive nerve in 2D's neck. "Because..."

2D didn't get to finish his sentence. In one fluid motion, Murdoc sat up and pulled 2D toward him, laying him flat on his back. Murdoc leaned over him, staring down into his eyes with a sudden intensity.

"Because why, face-ache?" asked Murdoc, sounding anything but angry and everything but nice. He suddenly grabbed at 2D's bulging crotch and squeezed. 2D cried out, his back rising off the bed. Murdoc smirked, a cruel glint in his mismatched eyes. "We both know you  _want_  this..."

"I-I  _do_..." 2D breathed on an exhale, the words escaping him without his consent.  _Mouth, we talked about this. Stop saying things I don't want to say._  "B-but..."

 _But you have a secret I think I know. But you love someone else. But you can't just_ use _me like this._

Murdoc chuckled darkly and licked his lips, his hand rubbing 2D through his jeans.

"B-but..." 2D stuttered, trying to ignore the flying colors that danced around in his useless mind.

_But you're going to regret this. But I'll just get my hopes up. But this will break me._

"But... ah..." 2D's eyes closed. One of his hands found Murdoc's head and his fingers combed through the thick black hair. The bassist gave a low, satisfied purr.

_But that song still exists. But we're broken._

"I know what you're thinking," Murdoc's face was inches from 2D's, his voice low and placating. "Don't say it. Just let it go..."

He was asking him to forget Murdoc's music. Past the green skin, terrible hygiene, and snarky persona, there was a single diamond. It was tiny, perhaps a bit dusty, but if you held it up to the light, angled it just right, you could fill an entire room with color.

Murdoc wanted him to forget that?

2D was good at forgetting. He was always forgetting facts and dates and names. But he never,  _ever_  forgot a face, or a good story, or the colors he saw when music played.

This was  _definitely_  some kind of music.

Murdoc wasn't hoping 2D would actually forget. They knew each other too well, and Murdoc was no idiot. What Murdoc was really asking of 2D was that he pretend.

Murdoc paused, staring down at 2D. He seemed to be searching for an answer in the singer's eyes, waiting for a response. In that look 2D saw something like desperation, just a tiny hint of  _please_. Please don't argue. Please pretend this is okay. Please pretend nothing's broken.

 _I can't say no to you_ , he thought.  _You arse._

He wrapped his arms around Murdoc's neck and pulled him close. At first, Murdoc resisted, watching 2D with careful, distrusting eyes. Even during sex, it was so hard for Murdoc to trust.

"Closer, dullard," 2D whispered gently, repeating the words Murdoc said to him last night. "I'm not gonna bite you."

Their lips met and it was a spark. Their tongues danced and it was fire. Hungry, raging fire that 2D felt burning everywhere, deep in his thoughts.

His thoughts were everywhere.  _There goes my shirt_  and  _why am I in Murdoc's room_  and  _fuck, that feels good_  and  _is that Murdoc's hand in my pants?_

Neither of them spoke, which struck 2D as odd. He'd always thought Murdoc was a talker. He always had been before. Before, when they weren't stranded in the most isolated point on the planet and actually had birds to fuck instead of each other. But this was different. This was more than scratching an itch.

"Off," Murdoc breathed. His voice cracked, and 2D bit his lip at the sound.

He was referring, of course, to the pants that were somehow still clinging to 2D's bony hips. It was the only clothing left on either of them. Murdoc didn't waste time. Annoyed, the singer undid his button and kicked out of the jeans. Murdoc did the rest, peeling his briefs down and revealing the singer's most pressing need. Then he wrapped his hand around it and pumped.

2D's heart exploded, pounding against his ribcage as if it were trying to break free and join Murdoc's. But of course that was impossible. Yet, so was everything that was happening.

"This is nothing," Murdoc whispered, his lips back at 2D's ear again. "Alright? All of this... just another..."

Just another lay? Just another shag? 2D knew Murdoc wrote songs of heartache for another, but  _no_ , he was  _not_  going to let him forget this. He refused to be just another face in a sea of people Murdoc had fucked.

2D gathered all his strength and pushed, rolling them over until he was on top of Murdoc. He tangled his fingers in Murdoc's hair and guided their lips together. Careful to work around Murdoc's teeth (though somehow, they felt a lot less sharp than they looked), 2D twirled his tongue around the bassist's.

When they broke away, they stared at each other. They just stared.

_Of all the things we thought we'd never do, this is probably the biggest one on the list._

_Neither of us want it to end._

Murdoc was the first to look away.  _Too close_ , 2D thought,  _that was too close for him._

The bassist reached over for his nightstand, opened the top drawer. Inside were all the things that made 2D uncomfortable. Condoms, lubricant, handcuffs, and a few other toys 2D couldn't put a name to. Murdoc pulled out a condom and a bottle of lube, and smirked when he looked back up to see 2D's expression of terror.

"So you  _are_  a virgin," said Murdoc.

"No!" 2D squeaked, "I just haven't done it...  _this_  way before."

"You at least know how it works, right?"

2D looked away.

"Sorta," he said, "I-I mean, the knob's got to go into something, right? A-and... And we only have so many holes..."

"It goes up your arse," said Murdoc. Not a hint of embarrassment. Not a touch of modesty. "Or down your throat, if you want. Some people do it in the ear. Not nearly as fun."

"I-I'll stick with the, erm..." 2D hated how badly he was stuttering. How embarrassed Murdoc was making him feel. He'd slept with plenty of girls before, he should know all this. Yet he'd been reduced to a shy, ignorant virgin just because this was Murdoc, and not some bird 2D had brought home for the night.

Somehow, Murdoc understood him. He sat up and wrapped one arm around 2D's waist, supporting him with his thighs. He set the items down and kissed 2D once more, their tongues dancing to unheard music. When they broke away for air, Murdoc stayed close, his dark eyes hiding behind his hair.

"Relax," he whispered, "You're losing it."

2D glanced down at himself and blushed. His stupid grin found its way back to his face.

"Not anymore," he breathed back, tilting his head to kiss Murdoc again. He couldn't get enough of his taste. It was rum, with a hint of cigarettes, yet underneath it was surprisingly sweet, like sugar.

The flames were back, licking their way up 2D's bare sides, caressing his back. Soon the world around 2D melted away, and all that existed was Murdoc. Murdoc kissing him and Murdoc making those low, delicious purring noises as the kiss grew hotter, hotter, until Murdoc lifted him up and-

"Nngh!" 2D cried out, breaking the kiss and pressing his face against Murdoc's neck.

This wasn't supposed to hurt, was it? Murdoc didn't say anything about pain. Was Murdoc going to have all the fun while he suffered? How was that fair?

"Relax," Murdoc whispered into his ear. His voice sounded deeper, more hoarse. "It'll get better."

 _It'll get better_ , 2D repeated to himself.  _I trust you too much. It'll get better..._

It took a long time to get better. A lot of whispered promises, soft commands, curses when Murdoc's patience broke, and a few apologies when Murdoc realized his frustration wasn't helping. And then he was in, all in, and 2D wondered how his insides weren't splitting.

Then they moved, and 2D sighed air he hadn't breathed in for years, directly against Murdoc's neck. A neck he could see was covered in little beads of sweat, shining like jewels, and a wild thought ran across his mind like a stallion.

_If I held them up to a light, how many colors would I see?_

The pain faded into nothing, and he was left breathless. Murdoc kept pressing a button within him, a strange area he hadn't known existed, and it was driving him mad. His hips moved of their own accord, grinding circles into Murdoc's. His arms and legs clung to the bassist like they were high, so high in the air and if he dared let go, even to sneak a peek below them, they would both fall. Thousands and thousands of miles until they fell into nothing.

Distant stars were born that morning, and they came in black and red. Worlds where this was all okay, pretty normal in fact, were created in 2D's head. They rode the waves of intimacy and bravery and crossed all the lines that had been drawn for them.  _Fuck those lines! Who the fuck can tell me how many colors I'm allowed to see?_

Years later, it came, the overwhelming feeling of a connection so deep it transcends time, and space, and probably even music.

Murdoc leaned back against the bed frame, his lungs heaving. 2D tried to fall with him, to curl up against his chest.

Murdoc stopped him.

He gently pushed 2D off and sat him down beside him. 2D felt the afterglow sizzle away like cheese in a frying pan, reduced to nothing but grease. There was an aching in his chest that hurt worse, far worse, than the aching in his arse and hips. That gesture, that tiny little rejection of an after-shag cuddle, was all the answer 2D ever needed to know.

_Do you love me?_

2D rolled onto his side and stared out the window. The morning sun greeted him, and even the dead rays of sunshine streaming through the window were more comforting than Murdoc.

The shower turned on, and ran for a while. When Murdoc was done, he got dressed and headed for the bedroom door.

"You can stay in here," he told 2D, "Your arse is gonna hurt for a while."

He closed the door.

2D didn't want to cry, because that would mean he was expecting something different. It hurt, but it was nothing he hadn't felt before. Nothing like when he first realized how he felt about the bassist, all those years ago. The very first time he realized it was impossible. That was when it had hurt the most. Everything after that was a blur.

He knew from the start that this was no romance novel, no soap opera. Shagging Murdoc wasn't going to make them any closer. Not in the way 2D wanted, anyways.

With a heavy sigh, 2D tried to stand. He immediately felt a stab of pain shoot up his back, and fell forward, his knees giving out. His face hit the carpet once more.  _Nice to see you, old friend. I wish our meetings were less painful._

So Murdoc wasn't kidding, then. His arse did hurt, and it didn't seem like it was going away any time soon. Rubbing his bum and lower back, he carefully brought himself back to his feet. He hobbled over to the shower and stepped in, letting the warm water sooth his aches and pains. The physical ones, anyways.

He couldn't help but feel like he'd made a terrible mistake. All this time, he'd been a ladybug crawling up a tree trunk. The only way to go was up. Then this mad tree snake had said there was another way, and the ladybug followed him like the idiot he was. Then the snake had zipped up his pants and said to stay here and left him all alone on that branch, with an aching arse and no way to get back down and find the real way up.

That's where he was now. Lost, trapped on a branch of a tree he didn't want to be on, waiting for the snake to come back and tell him what he was supposed to do with himself now that it was too late to undo everything.

Now that he'd been used.

And that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was that the ladybug still cared enough about the snake to not question him, to just believe that the snake had his reasons and that was that.

He couldn't even find it within himself to blame Murdoc, because none of this would have happened if he hadn't agreed to follow him.

And here he was, giving himself a headache. He didn't need any of this drama. He hadn't wanted all of these extra worries. He wished he could be like Murdoc, and just put on a mask and pretend everything was fine. But 2D wasn't one to shut things out.

He turned the shower off and stepped out. His backside felt significantly better, but he still walked funny.

What he needed now was to talk to Yukimi. He didn't want to be alone in here and drown himself in useless thoughts. He needed to be with people and learn to be happy again.

He stared at his feet as he walked down the dark hallway that lead to the living room and kitchen. When he opened the door, his bare foot kicked against an empty can of beer. It rolled along the carpet, forcing 2D to look up at the rest of the room.

It was a wasteland. People and food were scattered all over the floor, along with an assortment of empty alcohol cans and bottles. His eyes fell on Cyborg, who was vacuuming around people's sleeping heads. No, not sleeping. Some of them were awake, writhing around like it hurt to move.

Not everyone was here. Some of the older, more respectable musicians had the sense to go down to their rooms for the night, instead of just crashing in heaps in the living room.

 _This is why we can't have nice things_ , thought 2D.

The party. The music Yukimi had played. That was why he'd gone to find Murdoc. Or, part of the reason at least. He still wasn't sure what he'd planned on saying, or doing, once he was there. Maybe he never had a plan to begin with.

"2D?"

2D looked for the owner of the voice and found her, curled up with an acoustic guitar near the window. She reminded him of a sunbathing cat, letting the rays warm her up. She didn't seem nearly as hungover as everyone else.

Yukimi, just who he needed to see. 2D hobbled over to her and knelt next to her.

"Why are you walking like that?" she asked weakly, squinting up at him. She was just starting to wake up.

2D didn't answer her. He wanted to tell her, to ask for her advice, because he knew he wasn't going to get it from the tree snake. But now was not the time. People were already shifting around them, waking up with splitting headaches and bad tastes in their mouth. This he needed to tell her in private.

Of course, it wasn't like she didn't know already. He could see it in her eyes, how they darted around his face, reading him like a book. He couldn't keep any secrets from her if he wanted to.

"Murdoc-" 2D began, but couldn't think of anything else to say. She nodded, understanding. She could read his empty eyes just like Noodle, all those years ago.

He helped her sit up, propping the acoustic on the window behind her.

"What happened to everyone?" 2D asked.

"Too much alcohol," Yukimi muttered, looking around her and shaking her head. She seemed half-amused. "Too much fun."

Just then, the living room door slammed open, and without looking 2D knew who it was. Who else would wreck their own stuff without considering how it might feel?

Love, hate,  _understand_. 2D couldn't decide. He wasn't sure he wanted to.

He turned anyways, and wasn't surprised in the least to see Murdoc in the kitchen. The demon was trying to pry a trumpet from one of the eight Hypnotic Brass brothers, who was slumped over the table on his tummy. Murdoc managed to take the instrument, and then held it up, blowing into it as loud as he could.

2D plugged his ears at the noise. It was a sound a dying elephant might make. It did the trick, though. The collaborators begun to stir, groaning and begging for it to stop.

"Bloody hell..." Murdoc whispered, glaring down at the instrument in his hand. He turned to the Hypnotic Brass brother and set it down gently beside him on the table. "Might want to clean that out, mate."

The brother glared.

2D met Murdoc's eyes, just for a split second. And in that second he saw nothing. No anger, no regret, no embarrassment. As if they  _hadn't_  made sparks fly just minutes before.

"Alright, you lazy sods!" cried Murdoc, turning to the rest of the room. "Get off your arses! We've got work to do!"

Maseo, who was laying in the same exact spot as he was the night before, groaned. He lifted one arm up to block the sunlight from hitting his eyes and the other to point somewhere nondescript across the room.

"I thought Lou Reed was up first," he whined.

"I scrapped the schedule," said Murdoc, "Since  _everyone's_  here at the same time, we might as well go at our own pace. So, who's the least hungover?"

Two people in the back of the room sat up, raising their hands. Ashley and Kane, better known as Bashy and Kano, stood up from the couch and walked toward Murdoc.

"Perfect," said the bassist with a grin, "White Flag it is."


	15. White Flag

Murdoc lead Bashy and Kano down to the lift to get started on the song, not once looking back to see if 2D was following him. The singer watched him leave, feeling something twist painfully in his gut.

Nothing. There was nothing in his eyes. No 'thanks for letting me screw you' or 'that was nice, by the way' or 'ladybug, if you  _really_  want to get back down to the branch you were on, I'll tell you...'

 _Don't make me ask for directions, don't make me ask about what happens now._  2D closed his eyes as his head throbbed.  _You know I will. I'll ask, and then you'll break my nose, and then we'll be back down to square one._

"See you later, Yuki," 2D mumbled, standing up and heading for the lift after them. She waved a tired goodbye and laid back down under the sun, snuggling with her acoustic guitar.

2D heard the lift coming when he entered the damp, rusty hallway, and looked up to see Murdoc waiting alone at the end of the hall. His dark eyes were hidden beneath his hair, his head tilted down to stare at the floor beneath his boots. One foot pressed against the wall behind him, both hands in his pockets. He looked like a gangster from West Side Story, without the greased hair and leather jacket.

He looked, for lack of a better word...  _cool._

2D rolled his eyes at himself. Comparing Murdoc to a greaser? Next he'd be saying Murdoc's skin  _glistened in the sunlight_  or something.  _Pull yourself together_ , he growled to himself.

"Hi," said 2D. Murdoc looked up. 2D half expected to see emotions flash across his face, little snapshots he could keep in his mind to study later, but Murdoc was ready for him. He kept his mask polished and shiny, not allowing anything to escape. He'd made that mistake too often in the past few days, and 2D could tell he was trying hard not to make it happen again anytime soon.

"What do  _you_  want?" he asked, sounding more annoyed than anything.

 _Sorry to_  bother  _you, Mudzie_ , 2D thought with as much sarcasm as he could muster.  _It's not like I let you shove your dick in me a few minutes ago or anything. It's not like that's worth a 'thanks'._

"To sing," 2D said simply, letting the anger go. It was better to think those thoughts than say them.

"Where are you planning to do that?" asked Murdoc, seemingly amused. If there was a joke, 2D didn't get it.

"In the Studio," 2D answered, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"You'll have to wait 'til we're done, then," said Murdoc, still smirking. The lift made its signature ding and the doors opened. Murdoc stepped forward. "You 'ent singing in White Flag."

2D stuck his arm in the doorway, keeping the lift doors from closing. Murdoc glared at him. It took a while for words to come to him, and when they did, they still weren't what he wanted. Knowing Murdoc's impatience, he said them anyways.

"What do you mean?"

"I  _mean_ ," said Murdoc, his eyebrows furrowed, "You're not singing today."

_Not singing. I'm not singing? No, I'm not singing. But-_

"Why not?"

Murdoc let out a frustrated huff of air.

"Either get in or get out, dullard! Let the fucking doors close!"

2D stepped into the lift. Murdoc punched  _'Studio - Study'_  and the doors closed. The lift gave a small jolt before obeying the command.

"You're not singing because you're not singing," said Murdoc, sounding impatient. "Sometimes you don't sing in our songs. Deal with it."

There was a moment of silence between them. The lift whined and complained the whole time, trying to fill the silence. 2D gave it a break.

"Can I listen, then?" he asked softly.

Murdoc's mask fell away. Just for a second, it shattered into a million pieces. For the first time, 2D could clearly see what lay hidden beneath it for all these years. Under the mask, Murdoc was younger. His eyes big and innocent and happy, but surprised, so  _surprised_  that someone wanted to listen to his music, wanted to watch him make it.

 _You want to listen_ , said his eyes,  _to_  me _?_

The mask fell back on, but it was too late to hide anything. 2D welcomed its return because without it, he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from kissing those happy, smiling lips. It was strange to think he had. He  _had_  kissed those lips, and twirled around in ecstasy with that man. Just an hour ago. Murdoc made it feel like that was all just a dream.

"Sure," said Murdoc, and it was so simple of an answer, so unlike what 2D had just seen, that the singer almost laughed at how great an actor Murdoc was.

"Really?" 2D smiled.

"Don't make me change my mind, face-ache."

The elevator delivered them to the Study, and the two walked into the Studio, where Bashy and Kano were already waiting, lounging on a couch that hadn't been there the day before. Suddenly, Murdoc turned around and stopped 2D, speaking low into his ear.

"If you even try to make a noise while the grown-ups work," Murdoc whispered harshly, "I'll gut you and feed you to the whale. You're invisible. Got it?"

 _You're invisible_ , thought 2D.  _Got it._

2D looked down at the carpet and nodded, unphased by the threat. He'd heard them all before. The whale bit was new, though.

"Alright boys," said Murdoc, whirling back around and walking over to the control board. 2D picked a corner and sat in it, watching from afar. "Let's get down to business."

"In the letter you said you 'wanted our sound'," said Kano. "So here we are. What sound do you want, exactly?"

"A couple months back," said Murdoc, fiddling with the buttons at the controls. "I snuck over to Syria and recorded an orchestral piece with The National Orchestra for Arabic Music. Nice people. Anyways, then I cut it in half and put in this explosion of beats and noises in." Murdoc turned away from the assortments of switches and buttons and looked down at the two British rappers. "That's what I want you to rap over."

Bashy and Kano exchanged a look, smiles growing on their young faces.

"Alright," said Bashy, looking back up at Murdoc. "So what's the song about?"

2D watched silently as Murdoc walked over to the window and placed his green hand on the glass.

"The island, mostly," Murdoc began, watching the sun make its way across the sky. "The whole album's about the island. I want the world to know what's out here, lurking at the ends of the Earth." Murdoc tore his gaze away from outside the island and looked back at the two. "I want you to say what you see."

The rappers nodded. They both looked out the window, but everyone in the room knew Murdoc wasn't being literal. He wasn't asking them to rap about the plastic sand or the oily smell or the whale that swam somewhere below the surface. Murdoc was asking them to sing what they felt, what they thought this island  _was_.

And just like that, 2D realized that White Flag was not a love song. Relief crashed over him like a powerful wave, and he let out a barely audible sigh from the corner of the Studio. He'd had enough of love songs to last him a lifetime.

Murdoc handed the boys a pen and paper each before heading back to the controls.

"Ready?"

The boys nodded, and the Studio was filled once more with sound.

As the day progressed, a storm blew in on the island. Rain battered against the glass windows, blurring the sky into a muddy grey smear. White Flag came to life before 2D's silent, staring eyes. Notes and colors soared through the air, and together, their heads nodding to the beat laid out for them in the middle of the song, Bashy and Kano wrote lyrics.

At one point they realized that playing tennis with words was better than hooks and choruses. They wrote poetry with rhythm that bounced back and forth between them. They rapped about what they saw, what they felt, just like Murdoc told them to.

 _Look, if heaven had a VIP_  
_This is it: white sand, blue sea,_  
_But I don't know who they are,_  
_And I'm damn sure they don't know me,_  
_But I come in peace!_

2D was invisible. He sank into the background and faded from sight. He watched as Murdoc tapped his foot to the practice runs. He was there for the moment Bashy and Kano felt confident enough to try recording. But the whole time he was nothing but a fly on the wall, forgotten and erased from existence.

" _Cool! White flag, white flag!_ " Bashy rapped, wearing a bright smile as the music took him over. One hand was on his headphones and the other pumped through the air, dancing along with the beat.

" _No war!_ " Kano joined in, facing his friend in the booth.

The two exchanged their lines back and forth, switching constantly until it was hard to tell who was who. 2D, still invisible to the world, glanced over to Murdoc. The bassist sat at the control panel, making sure everything was going smoothly for the recording. There was a look of deep concentration on his face as his dark eyes scanned the buttons, his long fingers tweaking and adjusting expertly.

For a moment, the locks on 2D's long-buried hope fell away, and he allowed himself to imagine a different world. A world where he could just stand up and walk over to Murdoc and put his hands on his shoulders to let him know that he was here for him, listening to his soul and loving every second of it.

_I can't. He told me to be invisible._

" _But tell me if I'm dreamin'_ ," rapped Kano, " _'Cause I don't wanna wake up till the evenin'!_ "

It hurt almost unbearably to shut the hope back in, and to find another lock to replace the defective one. But 2D was used to pain.

" _White flag?_ "

" _White flag!_ "

Murdoc held a fist up for the musicians to see for a few seconds, watching the control panel. Then he let his fist drop, signaling to Bashy and Kano that they could breathe again.

The three musicians began to work on the song, cleaning it up and mixing it to make the final product. 2D snuck out of the Studio before anyone could notice that yes, he  _was_  still there.

He let the lift take him up to the roof again, knowing the living room would still probably be a mess. He'd been wrong this morning. He didn't need to be surrounded by other people. He needed to be alone.

The lift opened to pouring rain. Thousands of fat drops of cold, icy water pounded on the large balcony, running through the rails and cascading like waterfalls off the sides.

 _You could make all kinds of noise here_ , thought 2D,  _and no one would ever hear you._

He stepped out into the downpour. Within seconds his clothes were soaked. He couldn't bring himself to care. His arse hurt from a loveless shag. His heart ached from a loveless song. He was so exhausted, so _tired_ of all of this. There were more important things to care about than wet clothes and hypothermia.

2D tried to walk to the edge, but about halfway there he fell to his hands and knees. The pain in his back was too strong for him to just walk it off. Tears welled in his eyes as he reached around to pull up his shirt. He expected to see a giant purple bruise on his backside. Thankfully, there was no such injury. This bruise was not the kind you can see.

There were, however, plenty of bright red scratches running down his sides. Canyons carved by fingernails that lusted for pleasure, for a temporary satisfaction that yielded no consequences.

Murdoc  _did_  want him. He wanted his arse, his throat, his ear (thought it wasn't nearly as fun), but he didn't want any of the 2D that came with it. That part had to remain invisible, had to fade away, because there was someone else that Murdoc wanted. Someone he  _felt_  something for. 2D could hear it in everything he did.

He couldn't stand. He couldn't even move. The cold had frozen him over, the pain had locked itself around him. He was ice, and stone, and anything else that isn't supposed to move, and never would, ever again.

He didn't know how long he sat out there, in the middle of the roof, letting the rain chill him to the bones. After a while, Yukimi found him. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close. She kept telling him that it was okay to cry, but that was strange because 2D wasn't crying. It was the rain that was trailing down his cheeks, dripping down his chin, falling to the ground.

2D wasn't crying. He wasn't. Why should he? What reason did he have to cry?

"I know what he did to you," said Yukimi. She was shaking, her body rocking back and forth like an earthquake. Was  _she_  crying? "I know..."

Days. It had only been days since he'd met her. And now they were hugging and crying together like this was some kind of dramatic movie scene. How did they get here from being strangers a few days before? Did 2D really need someone to trust in that badly?

"He..." 2D mumbled. Choked. Cried. Crying... He  _was_  crying. "He  _used_  me..."

"I know, I-"

"And I  _let_  him..."

"2D-"

"Why did I fucking  _let_  him?!"

A scream. That was a scream. He shouldn't have screamed like that. He shouldn't have yelled. 2D didn't yell. 2D just kept his head down, and did what Murdoc told him, and stayed invisible.

There were more tears, but no one counted them. He cried, and Yukimi listened, and rubbed his back, and told him that he had to be strong, that Murdoc's mask was not an easy one to break, and 2D said he knew, he  _knew_...

Then they were silent, the tears long gone. 2D left them behind and took Yukimi's advice.  _Be strong_ , he told himself,  _I can try._

"We should go inside," she said softly. "You want something to eat?"

The rain continued to pour, crashing all around them, but her small voice was not lost to the sounds of the angry storm. 2D pulled away, having buried his face against her shoulder, and nodded.

The lift ride was quiet, with only the soft dripping of their soaked clothes and hair splashing against the floor to keep them company.

"You know," said Yukimi, "Before my Nana died, she told me something important. Something I'll never forget."

2D looked up at Yukimi.

"'It's not over until you give up'," she said, staring at the doors before her. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. A sad smile broke over her face. "Words to live by, don't you think?"

2D's eyes fell back onto the floor, onto his cold bare feet.

"Yeah," agreed 2D, "But sometimes it's hard not to."

"It's  _always_  hard not to," said Yukimi, "When it's really worth it."

They exited the lift and walked down the hall. 2D was just about to change the conversation to something considerably less depressing when he heard it; the distant echoing of several voices raised in anger. He stopped mid-step, staring at the door at the end of the hall as if it might burst open any moment, and a mob of angry musicians would fly at them and attack.

"You hear that?" asked Yukimi. 2D nodded, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Come on," he whispered, running for the door.

They exploded into the living room, and immediately noticed that they were not alone. Just like the previous night, all the collaborators for the album were packed into the room. Only this time, the chatter produced by so many people was not caused by the delight of a party. They were angry, all facing the center of the room, where Cyborg stood on top of a coffee table, her fake eyes scanning the room behind her plastic hair.

"What's going on?" asked Yukimi. 2D shrugged, and she turned away to ask someone beside her. An angry-looking Bobby Womack, whose face was pulled into a disapproving frown.

"Why don't you go ask that  _thing_?" he muttered, shaking his head in Cyborg's general direction.

Yukimi took 2D's arm and pulled him toward the robot. It was the last place 2D wanted to go. Toward the unfeeling, trigger-happy robot who looked more ready to whip out her gun and shoot everyone around her than to answer anything 2D could ask.

"Cyborg?" asked Yukimi, looking up at the fake Noodle. The robot turned, peering down at her through artificial breaks in her hair. "What's happening?"

"Response: Permanent exile of obsolete collaborators," said the robot.

"What?" Yukimi whispered, her mouth slightly ajar as she stared up in disbelief.

"What'd she say?" asked 2D, tugging Yukimi's limp arm like a confused child. "What's that mean?"

"You're..." Yukimi breathed, still staring up at the robot, "You're banning musicians from Plastic Beach?"

"Data: confirmed," answered the robot.

"Who?" asked Yukimi.

The robot straightened up, her eyes flashing a light yellow behind her hair. She stared ahead of her, all perfection and no emotion as she heartlessly read the names that had been programmed into her system.

"Begin program: Exiles. One, Ashley 'Bashy' Thomas. Two, Kane 'Kano' Robinson..."

2D wasn't breathing. He knew, without really knowing, just what was happening. But it couldn't be... Surely Murdoc wouldn't...

"Three," continued the robot, "Yukimi Nagano."


	16. Stuart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, this chapter has fanart, brought to you by the lovely recluce! http://s7.photobucket.com/user/recluce/media/GrllzHMfa.png.html  
> http : // s7 . photobucket . com / user / recluce / media / GrllzHMfa . png . html   
> Enjoy!

His blood was like ice in his veins. His hands trembled, curled and uncurled into fists as he stared up at Cyborg. He didn't want to miss it when she told him  _okay, you got me, this was all a joke._

But she never took back any of it.

This couldn't be happening. There was no reason, yet there was every reason, for Murdoc to kick these artists off the island. They had done their part, and now all they meant to Murdoc was a waste of space and booze.

Did Murdoc not see that they were  _people_? Did he really not see that Yukimi was the closest thing they had to Noodle? 2D didn't want to believe that Murdoc just didn't care. Just the other night he'd looked at the moon through his bedroom window and explained where he thought Noodle was, or could be. 2D hadn't missed the devastation in his dark eyes and he knew, he  _knew_  Murdoc cared about her, about him, about music.

So why was he trying to take Yukimi away?

"2D..."

No, he couldn't do this now. He couldn't think of a way to say goodbye to her when he didn't really want to. It would be a lie, all of it, and he didn't want to lie to her.

"2D, look at me," she said, her hand burning his shoulder with its comfort. He didn't want comfort. He wanted answers. He wanted to know why Murdoc always had to take from him, why it was so hard for him to  _give_.

He turned and ran, ignoring Yukimi's question of where he was going because he didn't have an answer. Even if he did, he didn't want her to follow him just to try and say goodbye again. Saying it would mean he accepted it, and now that he'd tasted an equality between him and Murdoc, temporary as it might have been, he couldn't help but chase after it with all he had.

The problem with Plastic Beach is that there's nowhere to run. You could jog in small circles on the roof, or maybe on the beach if you were careful not to trip and get a face full of plastic. But there wasn't enough space to run for so long in one direction until you feel like you're truly running away from something, but also running toward something as well.

2D didn't know what he wanted to run for. Courage, maybe, so that he didn't have to run.

He stepped into the lift, letting it close behind him. He stared at the different buttons for what felt like hours but could have been a couple seconds, and then realized he didn't want to go to any of those places.

So instead he leaned against the curved wall and slid to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. Thinking he had relative privacy, he tried to allow the tears to come.

They didn't, because he wasn't sad. He was angry.

All his life he'd been overlooked and undervalued, Murdoc's Cuban heel always ready to snuff out his fire if he got too confident. He'd kicked him, and punched him, and pushed him so much that he had finally arrived at the edge of a great abyss. 2D didn't know how deep it was, or where it would take him should he fall into it. For all these years he'd feared it.

Now, with nothing left to lose, he wondered what it'd be like to take a peek at that abyss. Maybe he could find something in the darkness, instead of plummeting to his death.

He stood up slowly, glancing over the buttons again. Before he could start convincing himself not to, he pressed  _Studio - Study_.

 _So, yew want to stand up fer yerself. Can't imagine that'll end well._  The doubt in his mind sounded like Sam the toilet.

 _Shut up_ , 2D responded,  _I know what I'm doing._

_Do yew, now?_

As much as 2D wanted to wipe the amusement from Sam's both invisible and metaphorical face, the toilet was right.

He wasn't  _real_ , but he was right.

This was new to him, this possibility of trying. He'd taken Murdoc's shit for years, and though he'd talked back a few times and thrown a few half-arsed punches, he knew this wasn't going to be the same. This time was different. 2D was going to ask for something, and this time Murdoc wasn't going to say no.

Planning on defying Murdoc, talking to nonexistent toilets in his head. 2D really  _was_  going insane. This bloody island was finally getting to him.

2D looked up at the opening doors, his stomach dropping in nervousness. He couldn't very well defy Murdoc with nervousness, now could he? Yet here he was, in the Study, walking towards the slightly ajar double doors that lead into the Studio, about to try.

"... hell are you doing, man?"

2D froze, listening to the words coming from within the Studio. When he realized they weren't directed towards him, curiosity won over and he crept toward the doors, this time much more quietly.

"I'm tossing out the trash," It was Murdoc. "That's what the hell I'm doing."

2D leaned against the wall and peered into the Studio. The lights in the Study were off, providing convenient cover for him to blend in. 2D spotted Murdoc sitting on the couch with Posdnuos from De La Soul. Murdoc was strumming on his base, looking frustrated. The notes he played were short and angry. Meanwhile, Pos looked relaxed, leaning back on the couch and sipping beer.

"You don't mean that," said Pos. "You don't really think they're trash."

"No," said Murdoc. The unlit cigarette in his mouth crushed in between his sharp teeth. "But this island is too damn crowded and some people need to go. It's your damn fault, you know. Bringing everyone at the same time. I should be asking what the hell's wrong with  _you_."

Pos chuckled, shaking his head.

"If you're making an album with twenty-three people," said Pos, "You make it with all twenty-three people."

Murdoc stopped strumming and looked up at Pos.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you don't use people like cheap plastic."

Murdoc frowned and looked back down at the bass, resuming his strumming. The notes were different this time, soft and unsure. The music had changed with Murdoc's mood.

Pos leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, watching Murdoc's fingers.

"Why now?" he asked. "Yukimi finished her recordings before we even got here. Why is it so important that she leaves now?"

Murdoc strummed a single, out-of-tune chord and sat back against the couch, letting out an annoyed huff of air.

"What changed?" Pos pressed, not about to let Murdoc ignore him.

"Everything!" Murdoc snapped angrily, "Everything changed, alright?!"

Pos was quiet for a moment. Then he let out a heavy sigh and looked down at his feet, nodding.

"Alright," he said.

Then he stood up and headed for the door.

2D backed away, scrambling to get to the lift. At least, that's what his mind said he was doing. His feet said he was more clumsy than a newborn lamb, and he was headed for the floor.

The door opened and light shined down on 2D for a moment before Pos' shadow was cast over him. He stood in the doorway. The two stared in surprise at each other for a moment before Pos broke into a smile. He stepped forward and offered 2D his hand, helping him up.

"You're here to try and save them too, huh?" said Pos. "Maybe he'll listen to someone in his own band. Good luck, 'D."

With that, Pos called the lift and stepped into it, soon disappearing from sight.

2D and Murdoc were alone.

Well, no. Murdoc was alone, and 2D was alone, and they were still in different rooms. 2D wasn't sure if Murdoc even knew he was in here. He could probably wait for the lift to come back up and just tell Pos he couldn't save them.

But if he did that, Yukimi would be gone, and so would Bashy and Kano. And if 2D let this go, Murdoc would pick people off the island one by one until no one was left but them. 2D didn't want to go back to his room with the whale and wait for the tour to come around. He didn't want to let Murdoc take his friend away.

Steeling himself as best he could, 2D placed his hands on the door and pushed, entering the Studio.

Murdoc turned around to see who had come in, and his face immediately fell into its default disgusted glare as he realized who it was.

"What are  _you_  doing here?" he growled.

"I'm not going to let you banish her," 2D responded, trying to keep his voice calm.

The look on Murdoc's face evaporated, and a slow grin replaced it.

"You're not going to  _let_  me, eh?" he sneered, setting his bass down and standing. Never taking his eyes off of 2D, he calmly strolled toward him. "Why not, then?"

2D gulped. _Don't stammer, don't stutter, don't look away._

"Because she's my friend," he answered, willing the shaking in his hands to stop.

"Your  _friend_ , is she?" said Murdoc, still moving closer. "And you shag  _all_  your friends, do you?"

"What?"

"I  _said_ ," Murdoc growled, now no less than a foot away. "Do. You.  _Fuck_. All. Your. Friends?"

"N-no!" 2D snapped, clenching his hands into fists. He tried so hard, but he couldn't help it. He took a step back. Then another, Murdoc still pressing on. "I h-haven't touched her!"

"She seems to think you want to," said Murdoc, placing one arm against the wall behind 2D's head, and the other on his hip. "But she isn't going to have you. You know why that is, dullard?"

"Why?" 2D clenched his jaw, trying to keep his heart from beating any faster than it was now.

Murdoc leaned in close, his hot breath tickling 2D's ear. The hand on 2D's hip slid around to cup his arse, giving a light squeeze.

"Because this isn't hers," Murdoc whispered, "This is  _mine_. And it's not right to take what isn't yours."

2D could tell what kind of  _mine_  Murdoc was talking about. The  _mine_  of possession, not love. Murdoc was horny, and 2D just happened to be there. He'd let it happen this morning, but he wasn't going to let Murdoc distract him with it now.

2D brought his arms up and shoved Murdoc away from him. The bassist stumbled back a bit, but unlike 2D he was good at catching himself when he was off-balance. He also seemed like it was what he was expecting. The satisfied smirk on his face made that obvious.

"You'd know a lot about that, wouldn't you?" 2D said angrily. "Taking what's not yours. You steal, and murder, and kidnap. You're  _bad_ , Murdoc, I get it. We  _all_  got it; Russ and Noodle too. We knew what we signed up for when we agreed to stay in the band. We let you pull all kinds of shit for years! We never  _did_  anything about it!" 2D paused, watching something change in Murdoc's expression. The smirk fell away. "But this time, I am."

Murdoc was silent, staring at 2D with an unreadable expression. 2D prepared himself for anger, for confusion, and hopefully for acceptance.

What he hadn't prepared for was laughter.

Murdoc howled, holding his stomach as if he were afraid his guts would fall out. 2D stood before him, at first shocked, but as soon as he realized what Murdoc was doing, he began to seethe. Like a pressure cooker, the rage built up inside of him, growing hotter and hotter until finally-

"Stop  _laughing_  at me!" 2D screamed, and slammed his fist into Murdoc's jaw.

The bassist reeled back, stunned. 2D couldn't blame him, he'd even surprised himself.

"I-I didn't-"

_Thwack!_

2D felt the familiar sting of Murdoc's knuckles slamming into his face, and he swallowed his apology, the rage coming back with new vigor. With an impassioned scream, 2D flew at Murdoc, tackling him to the carpet.

They tumbled and rolled over each other, each fighting to pin the other down. Murdoc still looking a bit stunned even though the anger was apparent on his face. Punches flew left and right. 2D grabbed a fist full of Murdoc's hair and yanked his head back.

"She's staying!" cried 2D, shoving Murdoc against the wall. The bassist growled and grabbed 2D's shirt, pushing him onto the floor.

"No she's not!" Murdoc spat, "There's no reason-" Punch. "-for her to-" Kick. "-stay!"

"She has to stay!" 2D yelled, grabbing Murdoc's shoulders and rolling them over. He sat on Murdoc's pelvis and pinned his shoulders to the carpet. "She makes me think of Noodle!"

Murdoc stopped struggling and met 2D's eyes, the mask gone for a moment. He looked confused, and then like he was putting pieces of a puzzle together. A second later it was gone, and Murdoc's eyes slowly traveled down to where 2D was sitting. His arse was in the perfect position, and if they weren't fighting, they could be doing something completely different right now.

"What's going on here?"

Both 2D and Murdoc snapped their heads to the doorway, where a very angry-looking Yukimi stood, her arms folded. 2D and Murdoc glanced back at each other, and that was when 2D noticed all the blood on Murdoc's face. A bright red crimson was dripping onto his cheek, probably from 2D's own wounds, but there was also a darker, richer red oozing from Murdoc's now split lip.

That was when 2D realized what was happening.  _He'd_  caused that split lip, and all those budding bruises. He and Murdoc were fighting.

2D let go of Murdoc's shoulders and pulled his hands closer to his chest, suddenly afraid of his own power. He didn't know he could pin Murdoc to the floor. He didn't even know he could fight back like this, let alone win.

"Get offa me, face-ache!" Murdoc growled, bucking his hips and pushing the singer off of him.

2D fell onto the carpet. Stuart picked himself up.

Murdoc smeared the blood on his face with the back of his hand. He glared between 2D and Yukimi, spitting blood and saliva onto the carpet, not caring where it landed.

"Fine," he said, "The bitch and her friends can stay. For now."

Murdoc stormed out of the room, giving Yukimi one last snarl before slamming the door in her face. She glared at the door in return, as if her anger could pass through it. It probably could.

"What just happened?" she asked, turning back to face 2D.

Funny, 2D was asking himself the same question. He tried to answer.

"I didn't want you to go, so I came up here, and Murdoc asked if you and I was shagging and I said no and he tried to brush it off but I wouldn't let him and he laughed at me, and I punched him and..." 2D looked up at Yukimi, out of breath from trying to explain everything in one sentence. "I  _punched_  him."

"You stood up to him," she said, sounding like a proud mother.

"Yeah," 2D breathed, still baffled by the statement. He'd done it. He'd finally done it. And he  _wasn't_  dead.

Yukimi smiled at the bewildered look on his face, but frowned when she took in his wounds. She walked closer and kneeled in front of him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," 2D mumbled, and it was the truth. But he probably didn't hurt so much because he was still running on adrenaline.

"This is all my fault," said Yukimi, shaking her head. "I took things too far."

"What do you mean?"

Yukimi sighed and sat back on her bum, crossing her legs beneath her.

"I made Murdoc think we're together," she said, "He thinks you like me instead of him."

"So?" said 2D, wiping blood from his nose. "He don't like to share, that's all."

"2D, there's so much more to it than that," Yukimi hurried to say, "You know there is. He's jealous."

2D found that difficult to believe when they'd nearly just killed each other like feral alley cats.

"Murdoc doesn't  _get_  jealous," said 2D. He met Yukimi's eyes. "Not for anyone. Especially not for me."

Yukimi looked frustrated. "Don't be so hard on yourself."

She sounded like she didn't understand. He felt the need to explain.

"If I'm not," 2D said, running his hand across the carpet, loving the way the little strands always fell back into place, "I get hopeful. That's when it starts hurting. I just can't trust something so... hopeless."

Yukimi was silent for a while, her eyes following 2D's across the carpet. Finally, she reached out her own hand and stopped him, forcing him to meet her eyes.

"It's not hopeless," she insisted, "Unless  _you_  keep saying it is."


	17. The Sticky Slipper

"Oh 2D," her voice sing-songed somewhere above him. "Time to wake up. I made you breakfast."

2D mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, pulling the blanket over his head. He didn't want breakfast now; he was having a dream about saying no to Murdoc and somehow getting away with it. Even the prospect of food wasn't enough to lure him out of the realm of sleep.

He heard Yukimi huff out a sigh. It was easy for him now to imagine the little pout she was probably wearing on her face. After a slight pause, he felt her finger poke his shoulder. Then, it poked his side, and back, and legs, and cheek, and-

"Alright, I'm up!" he groaned, pulling the blanket off of his face and sending a grumpy, half-hearted glare her way. She smiled triumphantly, practically skipping toward the kitchen.

2D sat up and winced when his neck cracked. His fingers ran over the smooth leather cushions beneath him, and he glanced down at the fabric, half of his mind still dreaming. They'd managed to find an extra blanket in Yukimi's closet, and his arm had served as a pillow, but still he woke with aches and pains. He just wasn't built to sleep on couches.

There was nowhere else for him to sleep, since Womack had his room now. It might've been somewhat enjoyable (at least he wasn't locked underwater where the whale could watch him sleep like some kind of murderous lunatic) if his legs didn't hang off the end when he straightened them out.

It'd only been a few nights since 2D had finally grown some  _cojones_ , but for all the restlessness this new shift within him had caused, it felt like years had passed. Murdoc, for the most part, had avoided him ever since he stormed out of the Studio. He'd simply gone to bed with a few bottles of rum and locked his door.

Then, for  _days_ , nothing.

He'd only seen Murdoc once after that. Early one morning, 2D had opened his eyes and seen the bassist just a few feet away, in the kitchen. He was staring out the window as if his soul was somewhere beyond the horizon, pouring whiskey onto the countertop, missing the glass by a few inches. He looked very deep in thought, like he'd been questioning his very existence.

2D couldn't blame him.

He'd been restless each night, tossing and turning and staring out the windows into the shiny black sea. Part of him felt great for starting that fight, for throwing the first punch and not shying away when Murdoc hit him back. It'd felt  _good_  to finally be considered an opponent.

Yet... 2D couldn't help but feel like he'd messed something up. He'd kicked the status quo so hard in its gut that Murdoc couldn't pour his drinks correctly, and he couldn't even tell if that was a good thing.

"What's with the thousand-mile stare?" asked Yukimi.

2D glanced toward the kitchen, where his friend was dishing out fresh pancakes. He got a sudden whiff of the buttermilk batter and warm syrup, and before 2D could ask himself whether he was actually hungry or not, his stomach growled a definite 'Oh my dear pancakes yes.  _Yes_. If you don't go for those pancakes right now, I'll shoot acid up your esophagus.'

So, abandoning the worry, 2D stood up and shuffled groggily over to the table.

_Atta boy, Stuart!_  Sam chimed in.  _'Bout time yew stopped moppin' about. I woz beginnin' ta think yew had us trapped in some soap opera!_

_Shut up_ , thought 2D, mentally banging his head against a mental wall.  _You're jus' a toilet._

_And yew're jus' a disproportionately tall man who's in love with a narcissistic bass player_ , said Sam, _we all have our shortcomings._

"You made pancakes," said 2D, ignoring the toilet in his head.

"That I did," said Yukimi, already eating her syrup-soaked, butter-oozing pancakes. If there was one major difference between Yukimi and Noodle, it was that Yukimi ate delicately. Noodle would have downed the first pancake in less than ten seconds.

"Why?"

Yukimi looked out the window, seeming thoughtful.

"To celebrate your new-found courage," she answered, twirling her fork in the air, holding it as an artist holds a paintbrush. She was smiling, but her eyes were careful. They were the eyes of a friend who is not sure whether to laugh or cry with you. They asked a silent question.

_What do you want me to do to help make it better?_

2D broke into a smile.

"Jus' pass the syrup."

* * *

 

"I want to show you something."

2D placed his dish in the kitchen sink.

"Yeah?" he said, "What's that?"

"You'll have to wait and see," she said, flashing him a grin. She bounced slightly on the balls of her bare feet, her hands tucked behind her back. "Follow me."

She led him down the hallway and toward the lift. 2D refrained from staring longingly at Murdoc's bedroom door.

"We goin' to the roof?" 2D asked, unable to stand the silence.

"Nope."

"Studio?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Er... My room?"

"You haven't been to too many places on the island, have you?"

"It's not like there's much to see," 2D mumbled, staring down at his feet.

"You'd be surprised," said Yukimi. There was the tiniest hint of a smile on her lips as she stared ahead at the lift doors. "Anyways, we're not going up or down. We're going out."

"Out?" asked 2D, the word sticking like a shiny lyric in his mind. Out. Outside. Fresh air, shoreline,  _freedom_. "We're going outside?"

"And then some," said Yukimi, finally allowing their eyes to meet as she waited for his reaction.

Outside, and then some. All 2D could process was a vision of them stepping out the front door, walking toward the sea, and jumping in. What else would 'and then some' mean?

Suddenly, 2D remembered that boats were things that existed.

"We're leaving Plastic Beach?" 2D asked excitedly and a little too loudly. Yukimi hushed him, looking worried for a moment as she glanced behind them at Murdoc's shut bedroom door. With any luck he was still asleep.

The lift arrived, and the two stepped hurriedly inside.

"Sort of," she said, pressing the button for  _Entrance_. The doors shut and the lift slowly squeaked and trembled its way downward. "We're not going very far, though. I'm sure Murdoc won't mind if we took you on a little...  _field trip_."

_You'd be surprised_ , thought 2D. It was too easy to imagine the look on Murdoc's face when he woke up and 2D wasn't on the island. His prized singer with the irreplaceable voice, slipping from his grimy fingers.

No, he wouldn't be too happy about that at all.

The lift gave one last pathetic squeak as it arrived on the first floor, emptying them out into the short metallic hallway. Yukimi crept around the small, sleeping man as 2D paused, taking a moment to wonder if the poor little man ever had any breaks. It would be just like Murdoc to work people to exhaustion for as little money as he could possibly pay them.

_Jus' like_  yew  _to love 'im_ , Sam offered his two cents. 2D ignored the chum change.

"Hey, what are you doing, 'D?" Yukimi whispered, "Don't wake him up!"

"I-I'm not!" 2D whispered back. Then he noticed the bright, multicolored pair of rain boots now covering the singer's feet. He raised a slow eyebrow, and Yukimi shifted, seeming uncomfortable.

"It's just a precaution, so I don't cut my feet on the beach," she said quickly, her voice still barely above a whisper so she wouldn't wake the Lift Man. When 2D continued to stare, she folded her arms and looked away. "Shut up, they're beautiful."

"I 'ent judging." 2D threw up his arms in defense, joining her by the door. He lifted the bottoms of his skinny jeans to show off his mismatched neon socks, nearly falling forward in the process. "See?"

Yukimi chuckled. "Yeah, 2D. I see. Now, help me open this thing."

Together they spun the hatch open, and 2D's skin was reintroduced to organic sunlight. He could practically  _feel_  the Vitamin S absorbing into him. Or was it Vitamin C? Or... D? No, it was S for Sun, right? Whatever.

The beach smelled like dead fish, used motor oil, and melting plastic, but 2D sucked in a lungful of the stench and exhaled it happily. There wasn't a chance Murdoc would approve of him being out here, but that didn't seem to matter anymore, what with his new-found courage and apparent knack for kicking the bassist's arse.

Then again, 2D wasn't exactly  _itching_  for another fight...

They walked briskly down the set of wooden stairs and directly onto the beach. 2D, having been to plenty of beaches in his lifetime, expected his feet to sink into the globular pink ground like sand, and was surprised when they did not. He paused, inspecting the ground like a fascinated monkey, studying a new substance by sniffing at it intensely.

"Oh yeah," said Yukimi, "I forgot to tell you. Most of the island's as stiff as, well, hard plastic. You have to be careful, though. On warmer days like this one, some of that plastic melts and creates these pockets of slippery goop. Just watch out for the shiny parts. Oh, and there's also a whole mess of rubbish embedded in the shore. Like, airplane wings, old cars, weapons, microwaves, random shards of glass..."

"You've been out here before?" 2D asked, picking himself up from the beach and giving the ground one hard stomp with his foot. The  _thud!_  he heard was entirely unnatural. Just like everything else about this place.

"Just once," she admitted with a bemused grin, "On one of the warmer days."

He followed her to the West end of the island, making their way around the central column of plastic that made up the "trunk" of the tree-like structure.

"Look, 2D," she said, waving him over. He'd fallen a bit behind, worried he might slip on half-melted plastic and somehow end up killing himself. He hurried to catch up with her, still nervous about the apparently viscous ground.

He followed her pointing finger to the medium-sized, private cruise ship anchored about a hundred yards from the shoreline. The one, 2D recognized, that had brought all the collaborators onto Plastic Beach. It bobbed silently in the water, beckoning them to come aboard.

"You didn't forget about  _The Sticky Slipper_ , did you?" said Yukimi.

"The  _what_?"

" _The Sticky Slipper_ ," Yukimi repeated. She shrugged. "Apparently that's what it's called. It's where all the musicians have been spending their days lately. There's not much to do here; we had to improvise."

She led him down toward the shore, heading for a small rowboat that was tied to a post. She stepped inside with ease, but 2D couldn't do the same. One foot went in just fine, but the other hesitated, as if glued to the shore. He looked down at it, and realized only then exactly what he was doing.

If he lifted his foot off the shore and into the boat, he wouldn't be on the island anymore. Just one step and he would be free. He turned to look at the massive hunk of plastic that had been little more than a cage in his eyes ever since he first got here.

A giant, fancy, plastic cage.

"Outside," 2D whispered, "And then some."

"What was that?" asked Yukimi.

"Nothing."

2D slowly lifted his foot off the plastic shore, tucking it into the boat. There was a small part of him that actually wanted to gasp at the fact that he was still alive. That Murdoc hadn't come running out of the front entrance with a baseball bat ready to cave his face in.

But here he was, alive and well, defying unspoken orders as if it was normal for him.

He sat down. The boat rocked unsteadily in the water, making him grip the sides tightly. Once he was safely inside, Yukimi handed him an ore and together they began to paddle out to sea.

2D watched the shore grow smaller with worried eyes.

"He's not going to do anything," Yukimi said suddenly, bringing him out of his intense stare. He met her eyes silently, and she fed him nothing but sincerity through them. "You are  _not_  his to control."

She was wrong. 2D was Murdoc's to control ever since the day they met. One little spark of defiance was not going to change anything.

It didn't take them long to reach the ship.

They managed to steer the boat close to the side of the medium-sized vessel. As soon as they did, a rope was thrown over the side of the small ship for them to catch. Confused, 2D wondered why there was only one until the second landed on his head.

"Whoops! Sorry, blud!" someone called from above.

2D rubbed his head, squinting up at the man he didn't recognize. He gathered the rope vehemently in his hands and began to tie it to the small ring on the opposite end of the rowboat.

"Ready!" Yukimi cried when he was done. The boat gave a lurch, rising into the air a few inches. 2D gripped the sides, staring down at the receding ocean below.

They were hauled onto the deck, their rowboat secured by the men with ropes. Stepping onto the deck, Yukimi swept an arm through the air, gesturing to everything around them.

"Welcome to  _The Sticky Slipper_ ," she said. Then, pointing at the two men who had helped them get on the boat,"That's Lenny and Todd, part of the crew we hired to get us here.  _Apparently_ , not many people are willing to sail to the ends of the Earth, even for people like us. Anyways, let me show you below deck."

She led him down a staircase next to the main control room. Their shoes clanked on the metal stairs, echoing slightly when they reached the hallway at the landing. Small round windows lined the outside wall. Through them, 2D could see the eerie pink shore of Plastic Beach looming in the distance.

From here, it looked beautiful, if not a bit unnatural. But 2D knew better. Thousands of old cars, toys, weapons, artifacts, and other broken things of all shapes and sizes were embedded within the sticky plastic "sand". He couldn't help wondering what Murdoc saw in this place. What possessed him to think  _Ah! A great blob of plastic in the middle of the Pacific Ocean! I think I'll settle here. Build a nice mansion on top. Oh, and I'll paint it the most disgusting shade of_  pink.

They left the hall and entered another room, which turned out to be a stairwell. Down more stairs they went, though this time they were carpeted. The nice maroon under their feet erased all memory of salmon pink plastic from 2D's mind, and he remembered that he was supposed to forget the Beach today.

He followed Yukimi to the bottom of the stairs, down one more hallway, and through a grand double door. The room they were in was huge, and took up three floors. As soon as they entered, the sound of fun wafted its way to their ears like the smell of freshly baked cookies to a nose. Pool balls clacking against one another. Somewhere beneath their feet, there was laughter and music.

And those were just the  _sounds_.

2D hurried to the railing before him and peered down at the large room. Down below was an entire floor of games, food, music, and other forms of entertainment. Arcade machines lined the walls. Pool, foosball, and air hockey tables filled one side of the room. On the other, several couches formed a wide semicircle around a television, where three people were playing Silent Hill. A hot tub sat in the middle of the room, wide enough for ten people. There were bars in two corners, complete with uniformed men ready to serve all kinds of drinks.

"They come here during the day," said Yukimi, "But go back at night. The beds here aren't as comfortable. So? How is it?"

"It's amazing," he admitted. "I wish Noods and Russ were here to see this."

_And Murdoc_ , added his thoughts.

2D lost his smile. The pretty lights and sounds of fun down below lost their spark. He didn't want to enjoy any of it if he couldn't enjoy it with his family. How could he be happy here when two of them were missing in action, and he'd left the other behind?

"2D?"

"I-I want to go back," he mumbled. "It's not that great anyways. I mean, we've got video games back at the Beach, right? A-and movies... And also, one of the bath tubs is kinda like a hot tub, you know? I mean, it doesn't have bubbles or nothin', but..."

Yukimi saw right through him. Her eyes softened, and she did that thing where she was smiling and frowning at the same time. How did she always know?

"We'll go back," she said, "But I want to show you something first. Just one thing, and then we'll go back to the Beach. Alright?"

2D shrugged, nodding.

They walked around the open hallway to the other side of the room, bypassing the games below. Yukimi led him down spiral staircases, a maze of even more hallways, and through a few rooms filled with pipes and workers. Finally, they reached a room with a single hatch at the end. That single hatch had a single round window in its center. Flowing from that porthole was the most vibrant, stunning blue light 2D had ever seen.

"What is it?" he asked, breathless.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" said Yukimi, placing her hands on the wheel. 2D slowly joined her, placing his hands on the cold metal. Together, they spun open the door.

2D caught a glimpse of sea water and pulled away, hurrying to hold his breath. Why would she let him open a door that led to a room filled with water?! But she placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him, and at another glance, 2D realized none of the water was filling his lungs. Curious, he pushed the door open further.

The entire room was lit only by the same brilliant blue 2D had seen coming from the porthole. Not a single light was on in the room; none was needed. This was because one wall of the room was made of thick, reinforced glass.

Beyond lay the sea.

Thousands of fish of all shapes and colors swam through the water like birds through the air. They watched 2D with big, round, unblinking eyes, and he stared right back at them with his own. He stepped forward cautiously, placing his hand on the glass. A few small, silver fish broke their formation to swim towards his hand, studying it with as much curiosity as he had for them.

"A viewing room?" 2D asked, smiling as the fish swam back to their school.

"Of sorts," said Yukimi. She stepped closer to the glass, watching the fish go by with 2D, until suddenly, it wasn't only fish in the water.

A little pink plastic bag drifted slowly across the window. Its presence stole the magic of nature, filled 2D with a sudden rage.

"What's  _that_  doing here?" he practically growled, glaring at the unnatural rubbish.

"Just watch," said Yukimi. 2D glanced at her, saw how hard her eyes were, and looked back at the bag. He watched it float along through the water in silence, following it until it was almost all the way across the window. Then, he noticed a dark shadow looming in the distance. The bag slowly but surely made its way towards the mass as if it were pulled by some unseen force.

"Is that-"

"The island," Yukimi confirmed. "It'll take a while, but it'll get there. Without fail. Just like all the other ones."

"The other bags?"

"The other trash," she said. She met his eyes. "It's like they're attracted to it. I think... I think Murdoc saw this, when he first came here. What do you suppose he was thinking?"

2D stared at the mass, trying to see it through Murdoc's eyes. In his submarine, perhaps. Hiding under the surface, looking for a new home. What was he thinking when he first saw Plastic Beach? What did he think when he saw the rubbish slowly drift towards it as if it were the drain of all of mankind's waste?

_Music_ , thought 2D.  _He was thinking of music._


	18. Memories

The ride back to the island was accomplished in silence.

They'd only been on the ship for about an hour, but already the sky had changed. It had started out as a bright sunny day, with clear blue skies stretching on for miles in every direction. Now, to the North, distant rumbling clouds were slowly making their way towards the island.

He was glad she wasn't asking questions.  _Why do you want to go back to the island? Why can't you just have fun without him? How can you love a man who gives you bruises instead of kisses?_

He knew she wanted to ask them, that they were on her mind. But she was too nice, too modest, to say those words out loud. He didn't feel like answering them. If he had to answer, she had to ask.

Murdoc wasn't waiting on the shore with a baseball bat. With any luck, he hadn't even left his bedroom. 2D climbed out of the boat and handed Yukimi the oar. She remained seated. He might want to go back, but she insisted on spending her day on  _The Sticky Slipper_.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked. 2D blinked, pulled his gaze away from the island to face her.

"Do what?" he asked, confused.

"I don't know," she admitted, offering a shrug. Then she adopted a concerned look. "Whatever it is, just promise me you won't be alone."

"I'm the only one on the island, Yuki," said 2D. "You said so yourself. Everyone else is out there." He gestured to the distant ship.

She just smiled, gave a slight, slow shake of her head. Her expression said she knew more than she was letting on. He was coming to expect something drastically powerful to escape her mouth every time she gave him that look.

"Not everyone," she said, her eyes glancing up to the top of the plastic island, at the already nearly decrepit mansion where, as she had just pointed out, someone  _was_.

 _A someone who really, really doesn't want to talk to me_ , thought 2D.  _Like hell I'm going to go poking at his little... little_  nesting  _area. I've earned at least twelve scars from pulling stunts like that. Trying to talk to an angry Murdoc... Hah! That's like trying to pick up a wet cat!_

But all he said was, "I-I... I  _can't_."

"Sure you can," she said cheerfully. "I believe in you, Mister 2D."

"2D," he reminded her. "No 'Mister'."

"2D... Is that your  _real_  name?" she asked, "Or is that what he calls you?"

"It's what everyone calls me."

"But it's not your real name." She didn't even have to ask. She saw his real name on that music page all those days ago, just as he did.

 _[Stu]:_  
_I'll wait to be forgiven_  
_Maybe I never will_  
_My star has left me_  
_To take the bitter pill_

"Is it?" Yukimi pressed, her voice soft. One of the things he'd come to like about her was that she could press him for something so gently it couldn't possibly annoy him.

"No," 2D mumbled so quietly she probably couldn't hear, but it didn't matter. She knew the answer already. She always did. "2D 'ent my real name."

"Of course it's not." She paused, then began to push off against the plastic shore with one of the oars. Her boat began to drift away. "Listen. Today, you can choose to be 2D, or you can choose to be Stu. Just remember, you've been 2D for years. How far has it gotten you?"

Visions flashed through his mind. A thousand images of him running, hiding, being beaten to a pulp. Bruises, dented eyes, pulled hair, death threats. For most of those years, all he'd wanted was a connection. It didn't have to be anything big, anything public, anything known. Just something between them. Something quiet, that screamed louder than anything in the world.

 _They breathe you in_  
_And dive as deep as they can._

He thought of what he had instead, and cringed.

 _Not very far_ , he thought.  _Not very far at all._

The winds were beginning to pick up, and she was already so far away.

"I believe in you, Stu," she called, "But I also believe in 2D. Good luck!"

With that she concentrated on rowing, and the conversation felt as over as if she'd closed a door on him. In a way, she had. She'd taken the last rowboat, and left him alone on the island with a hungry (hopefully still sleeping) lion.

 _She's right, yew know_ , said Sam.

 _Not_  you _again..._

 _Wot?_  Sam sounded incredulous.  _Aye'll 'ave yew know aye've been doin' nothin' but 'elpin' yew since tha day yew dreamt me up!_

_It's the pills, innit it? I haven't had them for months, and now I got toilets talkin' in me head._

_An' yer ego's growin' like no one's business..._  Sam mumbled.

_What is this? Do I have Schizophrenia or something like that?_

This time, Sam's voice disappeared. It was his own that answered his worried thoughts.

 _No_ , he thought,  _you're just lonely._

* * *

 

In the end, he couldn't do it. He'd tried to muster up some courage, failed, and then tried to knock on Murdoc's bedroom door anyways. All he'd accomplished was hovering his knuckles a few inches from the hatch, his fist trembling as he stared into space.

Then, because he was too ashamed of his own fear to do much else, he took the lift to the Studio, walked over to the nearest instrument, and tried to figure out how to play it.

Tried, because he wasn't exactly sure what the hell it was.

It looked like a keyboard with only six keys, and it was set on top of what looked like a mini-amplifier. It was old; he knew this right away. What color it once possessed was now faded, until nothing was left but sick pastel browns. He stared at the new contraption, captivated by the strange sense of nostalgia he was feeling. He felt like he'd seen one before, a long, long time ago...

There were two printed words set right into its front.

" _Donca Matic_..." 2D read the label out loud. Just like that, he remembered where he'd heard those words before.

_"Look, Stuart!" said Dad, pointing to the strange boxy contraption sitting neglected in the corner of the music store. Without waiting for his teenage son's approval, he ran forward. Heaving a worried, but slightly amused sigh, Stuart followed._

_Dusty, old. The wood worn down with time, the paint cracked and chipping._

_"It looks broken," Stuart mumbled. He was all for strange, unique instruments, but he knew Mum wouldn't be pleased if Dad brought home another useless, broken thing just because it reminded him of his childhood, or because it looked cool. Didn't Dad remember the incident with the didgeridoo?_

_"No," said Dad, "It looks beautiful. Come on, help me move it."_

_Together, they ("carefully, carefully now...") heaved the thing away from its lonesome corner so they could get a better look at it. As Stuart wiped some of the dust away with his jacket sleeve, he noticed a metallic label gleaming up at him._

_It read,_  "Donca Matic" _in silver, rusty letters._

 _Interesting name. Though, in Stuart's experience, trippy names didn't always equal trippy sounds. Besides, this_  "Donca Matic"  _looked like it was falling apart. Stuart almost felt like smashing it to bits would put it out of its misery. Still, he kept quiet. He knew there was nothing he could say to change Dad's mind._

_When they finished cleaning it (or, transferring the dust and grime from the contraption onto their clothes, as Stuart saw it), they stepped back to marvel at it. Still confused, Stuart asked the big question._

_"I give up. What is it?"_

_"A 'Disc Rotary Electric Auto Rhythm Machine Donca Matic DA-20'," he said, "Or, as Pops used to call it, a_ Doncamatic _. It creates rhythms and beats. I haven't seen one in years. They first started making them exactly three decades ago, y'know, way back in '63..."_

It'd been incredibly hot that day. 2D could still remember the sweat dripping down Dad's face as he spent the next two hours teaching his son how to use an outdated instrument. He still remembered the look of pure elation on Dad's face when his son started getting the hang of it, how Dad picked up a nearby french horn and played along to the beat. They annoyed everyone in the store, but neither of them cared. In those two hours, the  _Doncamatic_  taught Stuart a valuable lesson in music.

There is no instrument strange enough, no sound disturbing enough, that you can't twist into something beautiful.

2D pulled away from his memories, resting his fingers on the keys. He played a simple tune with three notes, just to test out the sound. C# A F# , C# A F# , C# A F# ...

Smiling, he reached for one of the many dials and knobs on the machine, trying to remember what each one did. Soon, he had a complex rhythm going, and the notes he played on the keys fit themselves in perfectly to the beat like pieces of a puzzle.

_"Every song is a carving," said Murdoc, "As the musician, your job is to find out where to stick your blade."_

2D stopped playing, hit by another sudden memory from decades ago. Memories were like files to him. They were stored in messy drawers and stacked in closets in his mind. Sometimes it took a while to find, or perhaps a certain trigger, but they were there all the same. Forever and always, until there was no more water for oceans.

Or until he died, he supposed.

But this was one memory that hadn't surfaced in a long time.

_He'd just woken up from the coma not a week earlier. His head was swimming with constant migraines, and he was sucking down pills left and right. Everything but that stinging, piercing pain was dulled, dampened. Most importantly, his common sense. For days after waking up in that scene of pouring rain, pain, and distortion, he would run into doors, walk into busy traffic, and sit there for hours staring down at his shoelaces, trying to remember how to tie them._

_Some part of him had been asleep for a very long time, and he was still learning how to wake it up._

_They were back at his (smelly, messy, disgusting) flat, and Murdoc was already conditioning him for "how to be in a band", and "how to properly make good music". That's what he kept saying, at least._

_"Every song is a carving," he'd said, high as a kite on something called China Cat, messing around with a knife, "As the musician, your job is to find out where to stick your blade."_

_He drove the blade an inch deep into the wall._

"They're getting closer."

2D jerked his head toward the open door of the Studio, where Murdoc was leaning against the door frame. His eyes were staring straight ahead, out the window at the distant storm clouds.

 _I haven't seen your face for ages_ , 2D thought automatically, guilt washing over him like a suffocating wave,  _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have... I shouldn't_  ever  _have..._

And he  _was_. He  _was_  sorry, even though he shouldn't have been. If it would keep Murdoc from hiding and ignoring him, he would apologize for anything.

But all he said was, "How can you tell?"

Murdoc never took his eyes away from the window.

"I've been here for a while," was all he replied.

His hair was messier than usual, uncombed and hanging down to his eyes in stringy little swirls. He hadn't left his bedroom for days, after all. Maybe he hadn't noticed 2D was ever gone.

"So," said Murdoc, finally tearing his gaze away from the window and directly at 2D. It was the first time their eyes had met for days, and yet again, they were filled with such anger. Scratch that last thought, then. Somehow, Murdoc knew about him leaving the island. "You finally get a good punch or two in after all these years, and you think you can do whatever you please?"

 _I'm sorry_ , screamed his thoughts,  _I'm sorry. I'll never do it again. Hit me, if you want. Kick me. Take it all out on me, please! I'll-_

 _No_ , thought Stuart,  _you 'ent doing this again._

_But-_

_You've been 2D for years_ , Yukimi's advice echoed in his memory,  _How far has that gotten you?_

2D swallowed, his heart racing. Stuart waited patiently.

 _Nowhere_ , 2D admitted to himself.  _I'm not any closer to him than I was ten years ago._

 _Don't you think_ , said the part of him he called Stuart,  _that it's time for a change?_

2D stared back into Murdoc's piercing, forceful eyes. He gave the slightest, most fragile nod of his head, and felt that part of him slip away. For once, he let Stuart have the wheel.

 _Yes_ , he thought.  _It is._

"Do you know why I locked you in that bedroom, 2D?" Murdoc asked, still glaring at him.

"So I wouldn't escape?" Stuart guessed.

"Precisely," said Murdoc. "And do you know why I didn't want you to escape?"

"'Cause you're a greedy pig who needs my voice?"

Fire sparked in Murdoc's eyes.

"Watch yourself, Tuss," he warned.

2D swallowed in fear, but Stuart stood his ground, settling for silence.

"I didn't want you to escape," Murdoc continued, "Because there are people out there looking for me. When they find me... let's just say they won't spare me a simple bullet in the head."

Stuart cringed at the thoughts that flooded his vivid imagination. All visions of Murdoc dying horrible, painful, gruesome deaths at the hands of the dodgy crew he was always getting himself mixed up with. Thieves, liars, murderers; Stuart wondered which one it was this time.

Murdoc was quiet for a while, watching the clouds drift closer to the shore of Plastic Beach.

"I never said you could go out," he said finally, turning to face Stuart, "You won't do it again, will you?"

Inside his mind, a war was raging. Stuart wanted to say something defiant, filled with sarcasm, but 2D held him back. The end result was silence, which pissed Murdoc off even more.

"Answer me, face-ache," he growled. When Stuart remained quiet, Murdoc roughly grabbed his arm, pulling him forward until he could yell directly in his face. "I  _said_ , answer me!"

Their loveless shag changed nothing. The realization that 2D cared about his music changed nothing. But 2D defying him, threatening Murdoc's sense of control and his overgrown ego...

That might change something.

Getting no answer, Murdoc shoved 2D aside. He stormed over to the Studio door and screamed for Cyborg. She burst into the room not a few seconds later, snapping to attention, ready for orders.

"Escort him out," Murdoc growled, "Bring in Gruff and De La Soul. Inform them that we are recording today. Not tomorrow, not next week. Today. Oh, and see to it the little idiot doesn't find his way to the shoreline."

Cyborg grabbed 2D's wrists and pinned them behind his back. She didn't even flinch at the cry of pain he gave out.

Murdoc did.

She began to drag him out the door, but Stuart resisted. He was tired of being pushed away, but this time, he couldn't fight back. He wasn't pushed to the edge of the abyss like last time; he didn't have the right combination of rage and insanity boiling in his blood. All he could do was argue, so he did.

"Gruff and De La Soul?" he asked, struggling against Cyborg's death grip. "You're recording Superfast Jellyfish, 'ent you? I take it I'm not invited, then."

"Never," Murdoc growled, baring his teeth.

"I'm part of this band," Stuart said, kicking at the robot. "We-"

" _I!_ " Murdoc yelled suddenly, cutting him off. 2D flinched, shrinking back. All traces of Stuart were gone. "Murdoc! Me, my! This is  _my_  band, you little shit!  _I_  started this!  _I_  sold my soul for this!  _I'm_  making the music!"

2D thrashed against Cyborg, but she was many times stronger than him. She already had him at the lift.

"If you jus' let me help make it," 2D pleaded, "Like on Demon Days. Noodle sometimes let me-"

"You couldn't write music if your life depended on it! You're just a scrap! A tiny, unimportant segment in this project, on this album!" The lift doors gave their soft ding, and Cyborg shoved him into the elevator, following close behind. "I don't  _need_  you, face-ache."

Something fell in 2D's stomach. A cold, bitter hopeless feeling swept through his veins. He didn't move -  _couldn't_  move - and so he just stood there, watching the doors slowly close on Murdoc's angry face. No, not angry. Hateful. He  _hated_  2D. He didn't need him.

 _Well that's just great_ , he thought,  _because I need you._

Cyborg pressed a button and let go of 2D's wrists. He snatched them back and rubbed them, glaring down at his hands.

Yukimi was right. Defying Murdoc had changed something. He feared it had gone in the wrong direction. How did he  _ever_  think that making Murdoc angry would translate to romance?

"Where are you taking me?" he asked the Cyborg, not looking up from his sore wrists.

She didn't answer. The lift did.

It opened into a familiar damp and musky hallway, lit with dim blue lights. Cyborg pushed him out of the lift and into a bedroom that smelled of fish and plastic. A bedroom with a single porthole window that showed him the deep blue sea, and currently, what was swimming around inside of it, waiting eagerly for his return.

A great big eye stared in on him, filled with malice and terror and all the irrational evils of a murderous aquatic mammal.

"No," It came out first as a croak, but soon boiled into a terrified scream. "No, no, NO!"

He spun around and tried to push past her, but she grabbed him by the hair and threw him effortlessly onto the carpeted floor. She grabbed the doorknob, gave a sick, twisted smile, and slammed the door shut. Before he could gather himself up and rush over to it, he heard the lock click in place.

" _Please!_ " he screamed, tears already forming. He banged on the door with his fists, and anything else that could make a desperate noise that begged for freedom. "It's going to eat me!"

No response. 2D let out a choked sob and spun around. The creature was gone now, but he knew it was out there, waiting. With an impossible stroke of courage, he rushed to the window and shut the purple curtain. Then he jumped back and pressed his back against the wall, slumping down until his bum hit the floor. He buried his face in his hands and trembled with fear.

It was useless, this fear, and he felt stupid for being afraid. It was beyond his control, a crippling terror that had embedded itself within him from a very young age. Some people fear spiders, or rats, or monsters, or abandonment. 2D feared whales, and people would  _never_  stop laughing at him for it.

Finally, the fear began to subside. The curtain was closed, he reminded himself. It couldn't hurt him now.

Sitting up, he took a careful look around him, remembering that this room supposedly belonged to Bobby Womack now. Nothing had been moved around or altered, but now there was a small pile of Womack's clothes and necessities in one corner of the room. 2D's banjo still leaned against the wall, coated in a very fine layer of dust from disuse.

He picked it up and began to play.

He was angry. Angry at Murdoc, for being such an arse to him. Angry at Yukimi, for giving him advice she thought would work. Angry at himself, for how much he still cared about Murdoc despite how everything he'd ever been taught told him he shouldn't have.

He played a bit faster, his fingers already stinging.

Nothing had changed but him. Murdoc would always be an arse, Yukimi would always try to help him, and any romance between 2D and Murdoc would be nonexistent. The only thing that had changed was him.

He tuned the banjo, pulling the strings taught. The notes got louder, the pitch higher as he picked at the banjo's strings.

 _He'd_  fucked this up.  _He'd_  made Murdoc hate him. Before, there was tolerance, and at least that was something nice, something 2D could pretend was okay. Now there was hate, and all he had to blame for this was himself.

He allowed the anger, the hurt, the pity, to bleed into his strumming fingers. Grinding his teeth, he played a rapid, complicated sequence of notes that didn't even make any sense until finally, one of the strings snapped.

2D screamed and threw the banjo across the room. It hit the wall with a sickening twang of strings, collapsing onto the carpet with a soft thud. Realizing what he'd done, 2D hurried over to the instrument and gathered it in his arms. Thankfully, nothing was broken except the string he'd already snapped. He wanted to feel the metal strings cutting into his fingers as he played, but he'd tuned it too high.

_"You look ridiculous," said Murdoc, "Stop playing that damned thing. When the hell did we get you one of those anyways?"_

_"I bought it myself," 2D answered, plucking lovingly at the strings. "I like the sound."_

_"Yeah? That's great!" Murdoc said, "We should use it in one of our songs!"_

_"Really?" 2D beamed._

_"No, you bloody idiot," Murdoc snapped, "Only them hillbilly-men like banjos. Now, quit playing it before I go over there and snap it in half!"_

2D sighed and fell backwards onto his bed, hugging the banjo to his chest.

 _I like banjos_ , he thought to himself, smiling.  _I guess that makes me a "hillbilly-man"._

Murdoc had meant it like an insult, but somehow, 2D couldn't bring himself to take it like one.

A distant noise made him sit up. It was slight, just beyond the bedroom door. A sort of rumble-squeak, if such a noise even existed. It was the lift, he realized. Maybe it was Cyborg with the guests, taking them up to record Superfast Jellyfish.

Superfast Jellyfish, another one of Murdoc's songs. 2D remembered raising an eyebrow when he first saw its name scribbled on the calendar. He still couldn't imagine what it was about. The "Jellyfish" part at least tied into the theme of oceans and beaches, but 2D didn't know what to make of the "Superfast" bit. Why were these jellyfish so fast? Was Superfast even a word?

He wanted - no,  _needed_  - to find out, but he wouldn't get anywhere just sitting here, locked in his room. He had to listen, to be there for Murdoc even when he hated him, even when he thought no one was listening.

"It's not over until you give up," he told himself, repeated the words of Yukimi's Nana.

But how could he not give up? He was locked in an underwater bedroom, too far from the Studio to hear. He was trapped, and sheer will wasn't going to free him from this cage.

There was a loud noise behind him, and 2D spun around. A whole panel of the wall had fallen to the floor, leaving a sizable hole. Shocked, 2D stared at the dark hole it left behind, speechless. A tuft of light brown hair slowly poked its way out of the wall. A tall man wearing big, square glasses climbed into his bedroom.

It was one of the collaborators, 2D realized. His name was Daley, if he remembered correctly.

"Hello," said 2D slowly, tilting his head.

"O-oh! I'm so sorry!" Daley stuttered, already backing up into the hole. "I thought this was supposed to take me to my room. I guess I walked down the wrong passage... I-I didn't mean to intrude..."

_Passage? As in... a secret passage?_

"N-no!" 2D hurried to say, "You jus' saved me! I need to get out of here, actually."

"Oh," said Daley, glancing between 2D and the door, "That door locked, then?"

"Y-yeah!" 2D said, "Seems someone... accidentally locked me in. Could you help?"

"Sure," said Daley, "That is... I-if you promise not to tell anyone about these tunnels. I'm not sure I'm supposed to be using them, a-and I'm in enough trouble as it is..."

"I promise," said 2D.

"This way, then," said Daley, waving his arm for 2D to follow.

Maybe sex, and defying him, wouldn't bring 2D any closer to Murdoc, but listening...

That might.


	19. Superfast Jellyfish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! This chapter features fan art from the wonderful i-o-heaven on deviantart! Here's a link:  
> i-o-heaven.deviantart.com/art/His-Music-2D-and-Daley-374525748  
> i - o - heaven . deviantart . com / art / His - Music - 2D - and - Daley - 374525748

They walked in silence through the dark, cramped passage. The air smelled rusty and dank, and though 2D knew it was a pleasant day outside, he shivered at the chill surrounding him. Pipes of all shapes and sizes jutted out from the walls and ceiling. He ran his finger over a skinny one by his cheek. When he pulled his hand away, his finger was covered in thick, oily dust.

2D was bursting with questions. How did Daley find this place? Why was he even down here, snooping around in the bowels of Plastic Beach?

Come to think of it, it probably hadn't been a good idea to run off with a stranger that had literally popped out of his bedroom wall. But what else could he have done? It was either trust Daley or wait for Cyborg to come back and let him out. Then he'd lose his chance to listen to Murdoc's music.

Now that he knew Murdoc hated him again, 2D wasn't going to miss  _any_  chance to listen to his songs. They were something to hold on to when all seemed lost. They were the only nice bits of Murdoc that the bassist ever willingly showed. 2D wasn't going to let anyone take that from him, not even Murdoc himself. As far as he was concerned, after all the years of abuse, he'd  _earned_  the right to admire Murdoc, even if it had to be from a distance.

If it meant he had to follow a suspicious, exceptionally poofy-haired stranger down a mysterious, creepy tunnel to press his ear against a wall and hear a muffled, distorted version of Superfast Jellyfish, then no amount of rationality was going to stop him.

As if rationality had  _ever_  stopped 2D.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, 2D sighed and glanced up to the back of Daley's head. His hair was much poofier up close. 2D wondered if it was natural.

Daley held a flashlight in both hands, shining it ahead. 2D couldn't see it since he was behind Daley, though he'd seen him turn it on when they'd first plunged into this darkness, grasping it with both hands as if it were his very life.

What he  _could_  see was that for some reason, Daley was nervous. It showed in everything he did. His breath shook as it passed in and out of his lungs. His elbows seemed glued to his sides. Even his footsteps were short, uncertain, their scuffling sounds echoing off the walls. Every few seconds, he'd glance over his shoulder at 2D before quickly turning back around.

Finally, 2D couldn't stand it any longer.

"Is everything alright?" he asked. Daley visibly flinched at the sudden noise.

"Oh! No, I just- I mean yes, it is. I was only, er..." Daley stuttered, his voice getting smaller with each word. "I just... I wanted to ask about... Y-you see, I was curious..."

Daley hesitated, taking a deep breath as if to steady himself. 2D raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue.

"What happened to your eyes?" he managed to ask. Daley stared at 2D shamefully, as if he was apologizing for his curiosity. Maybe if it were Murdoc he was talking to, Daley  _would_  have a reason to feel as bad as he looked.

2D had made that mistake once. One night when a belly full of alcohol had given him too much courage and too much stupidity, he'd asked Murdoc what had happened to his nose. The next morning he woke up in pain. The only memory of Murdoc's answer were bruises that covered his pale skin, and shadows in his hazy thoughts.

But 2D was not Murdoc. These kinds of questions had stopped offended him long ago, and even if they hadn't, he wouldn't beat the lights out of someone just for asking.

And so, for the first time in a long time, 2D told the story of how he met Murdoc Niccals.

"It was a car accident," 2D answered, his voice echoing faintly. "Two, actually. I used to work at this dingy record shop back in '97..."

They continued walking down the hall. As 2D spoke, he could see Daley was slowly relaxing. Now that he knew he hadn't made 2D angry for asking a question like that, he started to open up. When Daley smiled, 2D got the impression that it was a rare and fragile thing. As time went on, his smiles came more naturally.

"Then it turned out the guy who hit me wanted to form this band," 2D finished the story. "He said he sorted everything out and that it was going to be the biggest thing the world had ever seen. I still don't know why I agreed. Probably had something to do with the brain damage."

"So, Murdoc nearly killed you," Daley finally said, "And now you're best friends?"

2D stared straight ahead, keeping his eyes black, blank, and emotionless.

"I wouldn't call us 'best friends'," he muttered.  _We're not_  any  _kind of friends._

"So you hate him?" Daley asked.

Murdoc ran him over with a car, and beat him bloody and bruised nearly every day since he woke up from the coma  _he'd_  put him in. If they weren't 'best friends', then it should be 2D who hated Murdoc.

So why was it the other way around?

"No," 2D muttered, "I don't hate him."

After that, they didn't talk until they reached the ladder.

The ladder before them was the biggest 2D had ever seen. It stretched so high that Daley's flashlight couldn't shine to the top. 2D ran his fingers along the rungs and felt clumps of rust break away from the metal.

"It's stable," Daley mumbled. "I-if that's what you were wondering. It runs through each floor, so you can get anywhere on Plastic Beach from here."

2D squinted his eyes as far upward as he could, trying to see the landing of at least the floor above them. It didn't work. All he could see was about twenty rungs above, and then the rusty ladder faded from sight. There was a hole in the floor through which the ladder disappeared, extending into the basement floors below. Both ways seemed to end in darkness.

Good thing 2D wasn't afraid of darkness.

He placed his hands and feet on the rungs; that was when he heard it.

It was faint, distant, but 2D had always had better ears than eyes, even before he lost them. His foot knew what it was before his mind did, and it tapped against the rusty ladder to the barely audible beat.

But as good as his ears were, they couldn't pick up lyrics, or who was singing them ( _if_  anyone was singing them). All he knew was that it wasn't himself, and while that hurt more than he wanted to admit, he still wanted to hear the words.

Needed.  _Needed_  to hear the words.

2D began to climb.

"W-where are you going?" asked an uncertain, nervous voice from below.

2D paused on the ladder. In his hurry to get to the Studio, he'd nearly forgotten about Daley. Guilt twisted in his gut, and he winced at the sensation. He glanced down at the other musician.

"To the Studio," he answered.

"Why?"

2D considered lying, but after a moment he decided he didn't have the energy. Besides, he was a terrible liar.

"I wasn't an accident that I got locked in my room," 2D admitted, "Murdoc doesn't want me to listen to the new music for the album, but he doesn't understand, I  _need_  to. I-" he stopped himself before he spilled the last, most precious bean from its bag. He didn't have to lie to Daley, but he didn't have to tell him  _everything_  either. "I'm part of this band too. I deserve to know what we're putting on our next release."

In the silence that followed, 2D began to worry. Should he have been so careless with the truth? That had always been a problem for 2D; he'd always been too honest. But surely Daley wouldn't go and tell Murdoc about his singer's escape.

Right?

Daley glanced down at his boots for a moment, rubbing one hand against his arm. 2D held his breath. Daley looked back up at him.

He smiled.

"Good luck," he said.

Without him, 2D would still be stuck in his room right now, trapped with the whale and locked away from Murdoc's song. Without meaning to, 2D had made another friend on this forsaken island.

"Thank you," said 2D.

With a quiet, friendly nod, Daley turned and disappeared into the tunnels, leaving 2D alone in the darkness.

A few minutes later, he arrived on the landing of the Studio's floor. The music was so loud that the tunnels were shaking. The air was alive. When 2D put his feet on the tunnel's floor, he could feel the beat in his shoes.

For a moment 2D forgot that Murdoc didn't need him, and that Noodle and Russel were missing and that he was stuck in the middle of nowhere on an island made of rubbish. Nothing mattered but this music, drowning the tunnel in colorful sound. 2D bit his lip, hardly able to contain his excitement.

Now  _this_  was something familiar. This beat was something Russel would come up with, the base something Murdoc would imagine, the tempo 2D would sing to, and that Noodle would tweak into something more refined and beautiful. This was  _Gorillaz_.

The old them, at least. All the other songs 2D had heard from the new album so far also sounded like songs they would write. The only difference was that those songs sounded so...  _lost_  compared to this. Because they were. Without Noodle, without Russel, having fallen from almost everything they once were, Gorillaz  _were_  lost.

They had come so far, but this song proved to 2D that not everything had changed.

There was a light down the right end of the tunnel, softly glowing in the distance like a warm beacon, showing 2D the way though he was more than capable of following the music.

Without another thought, 2D hurried toward the Studio.

He ran his hand along the wall, steadying himself as reality began to settle in. He was breaking the rules again, and he was all too familiar with what usually happened to him when he broke Murdoc's rules. He'd been quick to decide that listening to Superfast Jellyfish was worth the risk of being caught, but now that he was this close, an aching doubt began to settle itself in the pit of his stomach.

Lov-  _understanding_  Murdoc was a mix of both terror and a strange thrill that never faded away, even when they seemed to want nothing to do with each other. On one hand, Murdoc was a terrifying person. On the other, no matter how bad things got between them, and no matter how much distance they tried to put between them, they always seemed to end up back together again.

Murdoc was always running away, and 2D would never be able to stop chasing after him.

He was even doing it now.

Well, until the voices stopped him.

2D stopped, nearly tripping over his own feet (he hadn't realized how fast he'd been walking). Superfast Jellyfish had been turned off, and he could hear people talking close by.

He had reached the source of light. It poured into the dark tunnel from a ventilation shaft. When he got close enough, 2D stuck his face in the vent and inhaled the scent of music. Dust, sweat, and old wood. He had to be at the Studio. It was the only place on Plastic Beach that didn't smell like fish and crude oil.

2D didn't waste a second to clamber into the vent. He might've felt like James Bond if he didn't know he looked absolutely ridiculous. He wiggled in on his belly, his long, skinny legs kicking in the empty air behind him. He scooted in one inch at a time, trying not to make any noise.

"... ready yet?"

2D blinked, his whole body freezing. He'd know Murdoc's low, scratchy voice anywhere. Did this mean he was finally close enough to hear an actual conversation? He eagerly pulled himself closer.

"Man, go pick on  _that_  guy for once." That had to be Pos. "You just been talkin' to us this whole time."

2D reached the end of the vent, peering into the Studio. Murdoc was sprawled out in his comfy chair while Pos and Dave were sitting on the two couches. Dave was lying on his, while Pos was sitting up so he could share the space with Maseo, who was lying upside down, his legs draped over the back of the couch. All three of them were scribbling on notepads.

"That's because  _he_  already knows his lyrics," Murdoc answered lazily, pointing to someone across the room. 2D saw it was Gruff, the last collaborator for the song. He was sitting in the corner of the room, curled up on himself and reading a copy of  _Moby Dick_. "I don't need to worry about him."

"Yeah, but you wrote his bits for him," said Pos, "Look, we got somethin' but it ain't done yet. You can't make a masterpiece in ten minutes, you know."

"Pos, if I  _shat_  on a canvas, someone out there would pay big money for it."

"That doesn't make it a masterpiece," said Pos quietly. Murdoc scoffed. Pos frowned. "Stop pretending like you don't care and help us out. This is your song too, you know."

"What the hell do you want from me?" Murdoc snapped. He was impatient and distracted, like his mind was somewhere else, and he was trying to force it back into the moment by blasting Superfast Jellyfish through the Studio speakers. "I wrote most of it already. I'm not paying you to complain about how  _I'm_  not doing  _your_  job."

"You're not paying us at all," Pos reminded him, not even looking up from his notepad.

"Not  _yet_..." Murdoc growled, "There's worse people in this world to be in debt to than a scrap of bloody musicians. Just... finish the damned song so we can record."

"Maybe it'll help to tell us what this 'damned song' is supposed to be about?" Pos suggested, raising his eyebrow pointedly at Murdoc.

"I told you that already," he growled.

"All you said was something about it being like a commercial," said Pos. "You didn't tell us anything about what Superfast Jellyfish is supposed to  _be_. With a title like that, I thought you had something interesting in mind. Don't tell me I was wrong."

Murdoc let out a heavy sigh and stood up, walking slowly towards the window. He was silent for a long time.

"It's an advert," he finally began. "It's a little plastic advert about life… I mean, what have we got: 'Frozen Sushi', 'Plastic Chicken', 'Superfast Jellyfish'… Everything shrink-wrapped, freeze-dried, covered in Formica… What are we building here?" He paused. "And, er, as to where I got the name from..."

Murdoc pulled out a small, laminated piece of paper from his back pocket. Though it was far from clean, it looked as if someone had tried to remove as much filth from its surface as possible. 2D imagined Murdoc scrubbing it in a sink with strong chemical cleaner, picking off flakes of dirt and globs of melted plastic with his bare fingernails.

He wondered if it was even possible for Murdoc to care about something that much.

Murdoc handed the object to Pos, who stared at it with an eyebrow raised. Maseo and Dave scooted closer to look, and 2D itched with envy. He felt like an intruder, or at least some crazy fan sneaking backstage in hopes of meeting the band, rather than an actual band member.

"'Superfast Jellyfish'," Pos read, an eyebrow raised, "'The fastest food known to man.' It looks like some kind of fast food chain. I ain't never heard of it, though."

"There were thousands of these," said Murdoc, sweeping his arms across the room. " _Tens_  of thousands. I kept that one and let the rest become, you know, 'one with the island'."

"What's that thing supposed to be?" asked Dave, pointing to the side of the paper 2D couldn't see. His jealous itch grew by the second.

"That would be a jellyfish," said Murdoc, staring down at the paper. After a moment, he squinted, then added, "Er, I think. That's what it says, anyways. It does have the testicles, anyways."

" _Tentacles_ ," Pos corrected.

"Right, them." Murdoc waved his hand dismissively. "Anyways, I saw that and thought back to the implants I found on the beach just a few weeks earlier. It got me thinking about the very small leap in the evolutionary scale it would take for a silicon implant to maybe... morph,  _evolve_  into a living life form, like a jellyfish. Or maybe life forms could even become silicon implants. Maybe all this rubbish building up in the sea could mutate into life forms of their own, something totally new."

The look Pos gave him held his response.  _What are you smoking, Murdoc?_

"Look, just... Think, 'advert'. An artificial commercial. Bright, shiny colors. Fast food, cheap ingredients. You're trying to  _sell_  this song, you know? But we're also sending those fast food companies back some of their own medicine, forcing it down their throats. Let them  _taste_  the plastic they make!"

2D's black eyes followed Murdoc across the room as he left De La Soul to finish their lyrics. He went back to his chair and fell onto it, letting all the air leave his lungs in a huff. Why did he look so tired? Why did his eyes stare so far into the distance out the window? Why did the bags under his eyes suddenly look so much more pronounced?

Under normal circumstances, he'd have gone to him. Ask him how he was feeling, offer to sing for him, or at least to get a pillow or some soup or something. He'd done things like that with his past girlfriends. He'd take care of them when they were sick, talk to them when they felt lonely, keep them warm at night (until Murdoc proclaimed them a nuisance and chased them away, of course).

But this thing he had with Murdoc, this not-so-relationship, this "understanding", as Yukimi put it, was anything but what he was used to. Anything  _but_  normal. What kind of person falls for their kidnapper? Who can care about someone who pushes everyone away?

2D let his melancholy thoughts run rampant. It had been a while before he let them out of their mental closet, so he figured they could use a little fresh air. Besides, he always thought a little clearer when he was close to Murdoc. Like the bassist had some part of him locked away, held somewhere secret so now one else could get to it. Maybe that was why things were less fuzzy, less confusing, when he stared into Murdoc's eyes. Murdoc had a piece of him, and he was holding it hostage.

It sounded like something Murdoc would do.

"Alright, let's go, let's go!" cried Maseo, now sitting up on the couch, his legs bouncing impatiently.

Pos nodded and turned to face Murdoc. "Hey, I think we got something good here."

Murdoc snapped his attention away from the window and stood up, hurrying over to the boys. Gruff Rhys looked up from  _Moby Dick_  and quietly walked over toward the couches.

"Yeah?" said Murdoc, trying desperately to hide his excitement. The sparkle in his eyes gave him away. "Let's hear it, then."

"It's pretty fast-paced," said Dave, "We might not get it perfect the first time. We just need to see how it sounds and-"

"Alright, alright, get on with it!"

"Turn the speakers on," said Pos, but Maseo was already at the dials. With a flick of the wrist, Superfast Jellyfish flooded into the Studio, making the walls bleed with it's raging, daring beat.

"A bit lower!" Dave cried over the music, "He needs to hear us!"

Maseo reluctantly obeyed, turning the song down just enough that they would be able to hear each other, but not so low that the walls stopped vibrating.

Pos nodded his head to the beat. When it cycled back to the beginning, he began.

" _Yo, pretty packages of frosted delights!_ "

" _Look, it comes with a toy,_ " Dave continued, adding an amusing, mocking chuckle, " _I like that. I wanna number four, a number six, and throw in a plastic doughnut..._ "

" _Just ignore the gritty crunch,_ " Pos quickly interjected. Then, all three of them continued the line. " _It tastes just like chicken!_ "

" _Wrappers of many bit sizes_ ," Pos continued alone.

" _Man, are you freakin' blind?_ " Dave seamlessly kicked in, " _That's a rock!_ "

They played back and forth, reminding 2D of Bashy and Kano in White Flag. Only this time, the meaning of the song was completely different. Talking about it was one thing, but hearing the words De La Soul breathed life into, mixed with the gritty, crunchy beat answered all the questions 2D might have had about this song.

" _All hail king Neptune and his water breathers,_ " Pos rapped, " _No snail thing too quick for his water feeders._ "

 _Poetry_ , thought 2D, smiling brightly. These were the boys who wrote most of Feel Good Inc.'s lyrics. It was no surprise Murdoc had wanted to collaborate with them again.

" _Don't waste time with your net, our net worth is set, ready, go! Many know others, but- We be the colors of the mad and the wicked. We be bad, we be brickit, with the 24 hour sign..._ "

" _Shower my habits while you dine like rabbits. With the crunchy, crunchy carrots-_ "

" _That's chicken!_ "

" _Gotta have it Superfast!_ "

In the silence before the next start of the beat (which would almost certainly be filled in with something later), Maseo pointed to Gruff, who was standing behind Pos, reading their words as they performed them. He seemed a bit confused for a second before his musician's instinct took over, and he started to sing the chorus Murdoc had prepared for him, that he had already memorized.

" _Superfast, Superfast, I come in last. But just in time for breakfast..._ "

2D's blood went cold. Gruff's singing voice sounded almost exactly like his own.

Once, a long time ago, after a particularly nasty fight, Murdoc had threatened to replace 2D with Damon Albarn, another singer who sounded practically just like him. 2D had been so hurt that he hadn't been able to speak for days without choking up. Murdoc threw insults at him all the time, but this had been different. Murdoc had crossed the line, and they all knew it.

Four days later, a small box had appeared on 2D's bed, poorly wrapped and smelling like sour milk and stale vodka. Inside were a dozen CDs of obscure punk bands, two of which were signed by the band members. There was a note, unsigned, that read: Damon's a ponce anyways.

But now, here was Gruff Rhys, using his singing style, a near-perfect imitation of 2D's voice. Had Murdoc finally done it? Had he finally replaced 2D?

 _I don't_  need  _you, face-ache._

2D's stomach dropped and his heart contracted painfully. He suddenly felt so small, so useless. Murdoc had often said 2D's voice was his only appeal. The whole reason he'd been taken captive here in the first place. So why was Murdoc using Gruff here instead of 2D?

What had he done to make Murdoc hate him so much?

No, he thought, this wasn't about him. This was no revenge scheme, no conspiracy. Gruff wasn't a replacement; he was a collaborator. His voice sounded similar, sure, but it wasn't 2D's. He was overreacting, paranoid. Not unusual behavior for 2D.

Suddenly, the music was switched off.

"After the chorus we'll repeat lines nine through eighteen," Dave explained, "We've got another idea for after the second chorus, too." He stomped his foot lightly to the beat and added some more lyrics, " _Superfast Jellyfish is goin' superfast! That you can't see them, but you wanna eat 'em!_  We can repeat that 'til the end."

"How 'bout we save that for the live shows?" Pos suggested. "I think it'd work better if we just chanted that  _Superfast Jellyfish, Superfast Jellyfish_  bit for the studio version."

As they began arguing about what words should go where, 2D shifted in the vent. He'd been stuffed in this small square tube for at least an hour or two, and his whole body was starting to get sore. He stretched his limbs as best he could, then let them drop back onto the metal floor of the vent he was laying on.

The  _echoing_  metal floor...

Before he could stop himself, his feet had made a loud, banging noise that echoed straight into the Studio. Wincing, his heart racing in terror, 2D peered at the musicians below, hoping none of them had heard the noise. Thankfully, De La Soul seemed too engrossed in their discussion to notice the clang. Even Gruff seemed too distracted by his book.

Murdoc Niccals, however, was staring daggers into his soul.

His dark eyes bored right through the metal grates in front of 2D's face. For a moment, 2D's heart seemed to stop. There existed nothing but the fact that Murdoc knew he was there. He  _had_  to.

But then, Murdoc's eyes shifted, unfocused. He looked back down at the three members of De La Soul, seemingly dismissing the noise. 2D (slowly, carefully) let out his breath, his heartbeat steadily going back to normal.

"Alright, we'll only sing it for the live version," Dave finally agreed, ending the argument with a roll of his eyes and a shrug.

"Can we just record this thing?" Murdoc groaned, rubbing his head as if he just wanted to get it over with, to check it off his list.

Pos nodded. "Yeah, I think we got it down for the most part."

"Good," said Murdoc. "Start by recording Gruff's bit. I'll be right back."

"Where you goin'?" Pos asked. Murdoc mumbled something that might have been  _the loo_ , and turned to head for the Study.

About half a minute later, 2D heard a metallic clanging noise coming from behind him. It sounded like footsteps. A pair of boots were stomping their way toward him, and it was coming from  _inside_  the tunnels.

2D tried to squeeze himself out of the tight space, but by the time his knees were free, the sound had made its way right behind him. He could hear someone panting, not out of exhaustion, but out of sheer, unbridled rage that was all too familiar to 2D.

"W-who's there?" 2D whispered, barely loud enough to make a sound.

He knew who it was. He didn't need to hear an answer.

He got one anyways. Several, actually. A rough yank of his legs, a shove against the tunnel wall, a hard, unforgiving punch to his still-sore jaw.

The punches came without words, or maybe Murdoc was yelling at him, screaming insults and curses, but 2D couldn't hear them. All he could hear was a ringing. He was sure there was supposed to be pain, but he was too terrified to feel it. He waited for the night to come, the blackness to swallow him whole and spit him out sometime in the future, when his consciousness decided to come back.

It didn't come.

Murdoc only stopped when he won, when he saw the lights leave 2D's ink black eyes. If he never lost consciousness, would Murdoc just keep beating him? He didn't know, and that was what scared him the most. That one day, Murdoc wouldn't stop. He'd just keep hitting, kicking, screaming, until 2D's heart stopped beating.

Until there was nothing left to destroy.

2D's eyes closed, and he waited patiently for the sweet nothingness to overtake him. He felt something slipping, but it wasn't whole. Part of him was still there, still wincing at the pain, still letting out cries of agony.

And then, relief finally came. He felt the nothingness that had been his savior for so many years. The darkness that had taken the pain away.

And yet.

And yet there was still light, still a slit which 2D could still see Murdoc's face through. Oh. He wasn't hitting him anymore. He was just standing there, daring 2D to move again, to flinch even once.

No, that wasn't right. He wasn't angry now. He was... silent? He was... sad? He wasn't crying - no, not Murdoc, not  _ever_  - but his eyes were glistening. Not with tears, not with pity. With something 2D couldn't put into words, though he sure did try. He wanted to remember this when he woke up. He wanted to remember Murdoc's...

His regret. Murdoc's regret. He had to remember...

_Stuart? Stuart Pot, are you listening to me? I asked you a question!_

_Stuart, answer your mother._

What? What did she ask?

_Do you remember, Stuart?_

Remember what?

_He's sorry. He doesn't want to do it. He doesn't know any other way. He's sorry, Stuart. Remember that._

Then, lifted. Swaying back and forth. Lights passed over his head. Moving, he was moving. Out into a hallway now, metal sound behind him. Door? Maybe. Through another door. Onto a bed. Murdoc's bed. He knew because it smelled like him.

_Superfast Jellyfish is goin' superfast!_

Warm. It was warm here. He couldn't see now. He didn't want to anyways. Everything hurt. Seeing would only cause more pain. He couldn't imagine more pain.

Then, lips. On his. Soft. Softer than they should be, than they look. Murdoc's lips. Soft, warm, tasting like cigarettes.

A touch. A kiss.

An apology.


	20. The Boy And His Dog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features lyrics from Vienna Teng's song "Gravity". I didn't write them and take no credit for them.

The first thing 2D heard when he woke up was the rain, pattering gently against the windows. He opened his eyes and saw the droplets rolling, the chill of the falling water fogging up the glass. He blinked once, slowly, and winced at the pain in one of his eyes. The right one. It wouldn't open all the way.

He wanted to sit up, but he only succeeded in rolling over. He felt so heavy, but his head felt as light and fuzzy as a cotton ball.

Murdoc lay beside him, curled up on his side, facing away. He wasn't wearing a shirt, which wasn't exactly unusual, but it was still a detail 2D picked up right away. His eyes traced the outlines of Murdoc's sleeping form, back rising and falling with even breaths. He memorized every little shadow and bulge of his muscles. Sometimes they'd tense without warning, so much that Murdoc would tremble, and his breaths would come in shorter and more frantic, and 2D knew he was having a nightmare.

Even after Murdoc had beaten him half to death, he couldn't stop staring at him, couldn't stop the warm, squirmy feeling in his heart when he so much as  _imagined_  reaching out to touch his hair. It was stupid, useless, but 2D didn't care anymore.

It wasn't the first time he'd witnessed Murdoc sleeping, but he looked so different when his eyes were closed, when his face wasn't twisted into a forced grimace, that he found he couldn't look away. It made him seem so much more human.

2D didn't just watch, he studied. He was so used to a Murdoc that was unbearably loud, who hid behind his mask, who made himself known everywhere he went. Now, he was so quiet, so vulnerable, so small. He wasn't even  _snoring_.

Eventually, 2D had to investigate the source of his pain. He had to make sure none of his ribs were broken or that he wasn't internally bleeding or something. He heaved himself off the bed, careful not to wake the sleeping lion beside him.

He made his way towards the bathroom, flicked on the light, and faced the mirror. His right eye was swollen and purple. There were a series of tiny scratches all over his face. The bigger ones were covered up by bandages. Dried blood was smeared across his skin. Had someone tried to patch him up, or wipe away the evidence?

He wasn't angry; he wasn't sad. He was terrified. Not because of the blood and bruises, but because even though he could barely recognize himself under all the damage, he still couldn't bring himself to hate Murdoc.

He should be mad, right? Or at least sad, disappointed, broken,  _anything_. Instead he was none of those things. Or maybe he was all of them. Maybe he was so full of emotions that they just cancelled each other out, and he was left with almost nothing.

Almost. Because there was still one feeling that refused to be stomped out, a flame that never truly went away, no matter how hard the world tried to beat it out of him. Something warm, soft, but painful too. It ached and it desired and it begged. It was a hindrance, really, too demanding of something it could never have, but 2D wouldn't give it up for the world.

He left the bathroom and let his eyes fall on Murdoc. The feeling in his gut intensified.

"2D."

He spun around, looking for the source of the urgent whisper. The hatch that served as Murdoc's bedroom door was open, and the hallway beyond it was dark. He had to squint to see. Her finger was on her lips, a soft  _shh_  coming from her mouth.

 _Yukimi_. He wondered how it could feel like years since he'd seen her when it'd only been a day. He didn't hesitate to sneak towards her, only pausing to glance one last time in Murdoc's direction. In that moment he allowed himself to be afraid and not afraid at the same time. He didn't understand it. How could he love someone he feared?

When he was close enough she reached for his hand and guided him away. Away from the fire, away from the light. He trusted that she wouldn't let him run into any walls or step on any legos or trip over any shoes. He couldn't trust Murdoc like he trusted her, but if he could, something would be wrong with the world.

As soon as the lift's doors closed, two arms wrapped around him. His brain was lagging like an old video game, so for a moment he just continued to stare blankly ahead of him. Something about the urgency with which she embraced him, as if she were desperately trying to bring him back from some distant world, did. He snaked his skinny arms back around her, returning her hug.

"What did he do?" she asked, glancing at his bloodied face and shirt. "Why are you covered in blood?"

 _Nothing he hasn't done before_ , thought 2D. But he knew that wouldn't help her calm down.

"I'm fine," he lied. "Really. It doesn't hurt so bad."

"That's not the point," Yukimi mumbled, pulling away and turning to press a button. The lift began its descent. She paused a moment before she turned back to him, her eyes meeting his. "This isn't the first time he's done this, is it?"

His silence was her answer.

"2D, this is  _not_  okay," she said softly, shaking her head. She pressed the heels of her palms to her temples, as if she partly blamed herself for not seeing this earlier.

For some reason, her words rubbed 2D the wrong way.  _Of course_  it wasn't okay. 2D might be an idiot, but he wasn't, well, an  _idiot_. He knew that how Murdoc treated him wasn't normal, but their relationship _revolved_  around bruises. It wasn't okay, and it had never  _been_  okay, but it was all they had.

It was all they had.

"I know," he said. He couldn't think of anything else to say.

Yukimi studied him, her eyebrows raised, worried, unsure. But they fell in a moment, and she gave him a weak smile. She knew. She knew that 2D wouldn't give up, that Murdoc's violence wouldn't hold him back. That whatever was lurking in his heart was stronger than pain and countless defeats. That he was beginning to  _believe_.

That was all she needed to know.

"Okay," she said. And she smiled.

The lift sounded its familiar  _ding_  and they stepped onto the grated metal floor. She led him to her room and held the door open for him. For a while they were quiet. No further questions were asked. She just sat him down and began to wipe the blood from his face. With a determined look, she found all the spots of blood he'd failed to notice, even washed some of it out of his hair with a sponge, warm water, and soap.

"Did I ever tell you about my neighbor and his dog?" she asked suddenly. 2D had a feeling she knew she hadn't, but he shook his head anyways. "I didn't think so."

She sighed and sat back, neatly putting the first aid supplies back into the small red box they came in. She tucked the box into her suitcase, which was a bright pink, swirling with the darkest forest green. It looked psychedelic, like the entire suitcase was tie dyed. Art, just like her clothes. Just like her.

"May I?" she asked. 2D couldn't say no. He nodded and pulled his knees up to his chest, ready to listen to her story.

"Once," she began, "When I was very young, I went to school with a boy who was really quiet, never said a word in class. He always wore these dirty, scuffed-up jeans with holes at the kneecaps, that were always just a few inches too long for his legs. Actually, it was the same with all of his clothes. Even back then, as a child, I understood why. They were hand-me-downs from his older brothers. His family couldn't afford new clothes for him.

"We lived across the street from each other," she continued. " _The_  street. The one that happened to be the border between my middle-class town, and a crummy run-down neighborhood on the outskirts. We'd walk the same route, but he always had to walk one street more than I. I'm not sure if he ever noticed, but I'd wait for him. Once I reached my doorstep, I'd wait for him to walk across the street and go into his house. For some reason, I never thought he was safe, even when he got inside.

"One day he showed up to school with bruises on his legs and arms. I saw the teacher pull him aside at recess to ask about them, but he just told her he fell. I knew better."

Yukimi closed her eyes then, looking as if it almost hurt to tell this story. 2D was about to stop her when she pressed on.

"That day, when he walked home from school, he ran into a stray puppy. He stopped when it ran up to him, tail wagging, tongue hanging out of its mouth." she paused, opened her eyes, and glanced at 2D. A long look that he didn't understand. "And then he  _kicked_  it. I was right behind him, just a few paces. I watched that puppy come back to him three times, each time getting a sharp kick to its side, before I could even move. I cried, and I begged the boy to stop, but he just... smiled. A wicked, evil smile, and he said if I didn't want the same thing to happen to me, I'd run away and never tell anyone what I saw."

"Yuki..." 2D began. He didn't want to hear any more. It made him uncomfortable, not just because she was talking about some arsehole kid abusing a puppy, but it was something else about the story as well. Something he couldn't place, that made his bruises throb with pain. Why was she even telling him this?

"So I did it," she said, ignoring 2D. "I ran away. I was too scared to try and fight him. I was a coward, but I wasn't going to let him get away with what he'd done. I shot straight to my house, just down the block. I was going to tell my parents, but something stopped me. I had this urge to turn around, to look back, and when I did, I saw that he'd stopped kicking it. He was on the sidewalk, on his knees, cradling the puppy in his arms. Then it licked his face, and the boy cried."

Yuki was smiling now, a sad, ancient smile that barely reached her eyes.

"He just sat there, crying," she said, "I think he felt sorry for the puppy, so he tried to make up for what he'd done. I don't think he even understood what forgiveness  _was_ , judging from the bruises. He didn't think forgiveness was possible, that he would ever earn it after hurting someone else, not in a million years. So when he did, it was something  _new_  for him. Like... a blind person finally being able to see."

She was silent then, letting her words linger in the air. Finally she blinked, and her eyes flickered up to his. She looked like she was waiting for something.

"Why'd you tell me that?" he asked. He hated how blunt he sounded, but he really didn't understand. Was she trying to strengthen their friendship with an emotional memory from her past? She was already so smart, with an excellent taste in music and a beautiful voice. He didn't need her to be a great storyteller to like her any more than he already did.

Her expression was easy. She shrugged, gave a half-hearted shrug and smiled.

"Not sure," she breathed. "I just... felt like telling it."

2D wasn't convinced, but he was tired of feeling the pain in his wounds, and his empty stomach demanded sustenance.

"Is there any food left in the kitchen?" he asked.

"Let's go check," she said. She stood up and turned for the door, but just before she could turn away completely, he saw the hint of a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. It wasn't a sad frown.

It was a disappointed one.

He knew then that there was a reason she'd told him that story. That she wanted to tell him something. He also knew that whatever that something was, he would need to figure it out himself.

* * *

 

2D devoured his sandwich, barely remembering to chew before each swallow. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten, though of course that might have had something to do with the fact that Murdoc nearly bashed his brains in with his bare fists just hours ago. He could hardly even remember bits and pieces of what he'd done to deserve it.

He was freezing. Yukimi had opened one of the living room's large windows, and she looked so at peace with the cold that he didn't have the heart to ask her to close it. The rain had stopped, but a dense fog still shrouded the entire island like a cold, wet blanket. Little tendrils of the thick, white mist drifted in past Yukimi, only to fade into nothingness.

All that effort for nothing.

"How long have you been here?" she asked him, leaning on the windowsill and watching him eat his vegetarian sandwich. "On the island, I mean."

He finished chewing the food in his mouth, swallowed, and tried to remember. Months, at least, but he wasn't sure how many. The last time he'd been in his little flat in London was probably the beginning of Summer. The chill in the air, and a familiar smell that somehow made it all the way out into the middle of the sea, told him it was probably sometime in Autumn now.

"Not sure," he admitted, "A few months, maybe. Why?"

"I was just curious," she said, "I've only been here for a few weeks and I can hardly stand it. I'm just wondering how you've managed to keep your sanity."

"I haven't," he answered. He hadn't meant to say that out loud, but once he saw her smile, he couldn't help smiling back.

"Maybe you're right," she said, "Maybe only the crazy ones can really grow to like this dump."

"But I don't like it," 2D assured her. She raised an eyebrow playfully, but he held his expression. "Really, I don't."

"Don't worry," she said, chuckling softly. A light, airy sound. "I'm only messing with you. I know  _you_  don't... But I bet Murdoc does."

 _Does he?_  2D wondered. He'd thought that Murdoc liked Kong Studios, and look what he did to that place. Was Plastic Beach just another pit stop for him, another space to occupy, to use until its time came? Or did he really mean for this to be their new home?

Home. What did that word even  _mean_  to Murdoc?

"Let's go to the Studio," said Yuki when 2D finished his food. "It's been pretty dull lately. We can listen to some Vienna Teng to forget about this weather, yeah?"

2D didn't know who Vienna Teng was, but that only sweetened the deal for him. There were few things that cheered him up more than discovering great new music. Yukimi didn't even wait for his answer. With a bright smile on her face, she leaped up from the couch and headed for the hallway door.

"Have you ever heard Gravity?" she asked.

"Nu-uh," 2D admitted, following her toward the lift. He didn't bother hiding his amused smile, since she couldn't see it anyways. He could practically feel the heaviness falling from his shoulders. Most people found it annoying when others ranted and raved about their favorite musicians, but not 2D.

Maybe he would finally get a good hour or two to wipe his mind clean.

" _Don't you believe them,_ " she sang to a melody unfamiliar to him, twirling gracefully down the hallway. If 2D attempted that he'd be on the floor in less than a second. " _Don't you drink their poison too. These are the scars that words have carved on me_..."

It sounded like a beautiful song. He itched to hear the rest of it, but she stopped singing. She walked forward, a spring in her step as she started talking about the artist.

Unfortunately, 2D wouldn't get to hear the rest of that song just yet.

An unseen hand grabbed his wrist, and before he could even register the surprise, another covered his mouth and choked back his yelp. He was yanked swiftly backwards, tumbling not back, but to the side, as if someone was dragging him into the wall.

And then, he fell  _through_  it.

He disappeared into a dark room in the side of the wall, the hand gripping his wrist loosening until it let go. 2D tried to fight, clawing at the hand on his mouth, but it was no use. He heard the sound of a rusty latch closing, quickly, and then the light was gone.

Only then did his attacker remove the hand from his mouth.

"What the  _bloody flippin' 'eck_ do you think you're-" 2D shouted, but something cut him off, covering his mouth back up. Not a hand this time.

2D froze, shocked and confused and nervous and possibly a tad bit aroused and-

And then he tasted it. Cigarettes and dark rum, so much of the latter that the tiny cuts along his lips burned. Disgusting. Delicious. Familiar.

_I should have known._

No. Why should he have known that Murdoc would do this? Just a few hours ago the bastard knocked him unconscious. Why would he ever think  _this_  would be the logical follow-up to that event?

And yet somehow, it made complete sense.

Their lips parted, and 2D gasped for air, his eyes straining to see in the dark.

"2D?" Yukimi's voice was muffled, just on the other side of the wall. To her, he'd disappeared without a trace, vanished into thin air. He could call out to her and she'd come to his rescue. He could envision it so clearly. All he had to do was say her name.

Murdoc spun him around in the darkness, so 2D was standing in front of him, his rear pressed up against Murdoc's warm crotch.

" _Go ahead_." Murdoc's voice was hoarse, as if he'd been screaming for hours. His breath was hot and wet against 2D's neck, the bassist whispering into his ear. " _Tell her where you are_."

"'D?" Yuki cried. She sounded scared, worried. He was here, right here, not a foot away from her, just behind a trick panel in the wall.

One of Murdoc's hands slid down the front of 2D's body, landing in between his legs. He squeezed the sensitive area, and 2D couldn't deny the heat shooting up his spine. How long had it been since they had each other like this?

No! Why was he even considering this right now? Did he have no self-respect? His face was still throbbing and his head was stuffed with cotton and he was in the mood for  _this_?

" _I won't stop you_ ," he whispered, and 2D could hear his smirk, could feel it against his neck. They both knew that he  _was_  stopping him, his hands teasing up and down, sneaking into places he forgot he had, touching and groping and squeezing some kind of primal desire into everything that he was. How could he possibly pull away from this?

 _Just tell her you'll meet up with her later_ , he thought.  _Tell her that you're safe._

That would be the biggest lie. But it'd also be a lie if he told her that he wanted to be rescued. Murdoc knew it too, and he was using it entirely to his advantage. Murdoc isn't the type to wait for someone to give him an inch before he takes a mile.

Suddenly, a cold, bony hand dove into 2D's pants and found the source of all this heat and desire. When it gripped him, 2D trembled.

" _I knew it_." Smiling. Triumphant. 2D couldn't decide whether he wanted to kiss him or punch him in the face.

He didn't understand what Murdoc meant by that, but he wanted to clarify something before he let this happen. Before he abandoned his friend.

" _It's like you said before_ ," said 2D, whispering back so Yuki wouldn't hear. " _It's been a long time since I've shagged a bird. It's nothing more than that, yeah?_ "

" _Obviously, face-ache._ " Murdoc growled, as if 2D was an idiot for even having to ask that question. He didn't hesitate. He didn't miss a beat. Something in 2D deflated, but he was prepared for that answer, so it didn't hurt too much.

Yukimi's voice faded away as she went to go look for 2D. She would have never imagined he was in the walls. He knew because that thought would have never occurred to him if Daley hadn't popped out of nowhere and shown him the secret.

"Well there goes your last chance," Murdoc breathed into his ear. "You made the right decision, Tuss. Now come on, I'm not gonna shag you in the damned tunnels."

Murdoc let go of him all at once, leaving only a single hand on his lower back to urge him along. It was probably the closest thing to affection Murdoc would give him, and still 2D had chosen him over Yukimi.

Murdoc's hand fell away from 2D's back as he stepped forward. 2D followed him silently, feeling both obedient and disloyal. Their footsteps echoed along the dark hallway. There were no lights in this tunnel, but every so often there would be a sliver of light coming from the crack under a door. 2D ran his hand along one of the walls just to make sure he wouldn't run into them. He followed the click-clacking of Murdoc's boots for a few seconds until the sound stopped. 2D stopped too, and waited for some other sign of where to go next.

He heard a key slide into a lock, heard Murdoc curse the thing to Hell when it gave him a hard time. Finally it clicked, and the door swung open.

Unlike the hallway, this room was well-lit. A dull grey light streamed in through the window. Just beneath that was a bed. 2D paused when he saw it, heat rising to his cheeks.

"What? It's not like you haven't done this before." Murdoc stood beside him, smirking. "I should know, eh? Or did I fuck you so hard it scared you?"

2D glanced at him and frowned, his eyebrows furrowed. He didn't like how Murdoc was looking at him, and what he was implying. As if 2D was a shy virgin. He wasn't scared! He wasn't embarrassed! He would  _show_  him if he had to.

Murdoc's eyes grew wide when 2D took him by the face and slammed their mouths together. He wasn't expecting that, 2D thought. The idea made him feel satisfied. What did Murdoc know? That 2D was nothing but another nervous bitch he could take to bed for the night? Well, 2D had just proven him wrong.

Murdoc snapped out of it soon enough. He practically purred at 2D's initiative and kissed back eagerly, easily overpowering him. 2D was no bird, but he still wasn't stronger than Murdoc. And when it came to sex, well... Murdoc still vastly exceeded him in that category.

And if he were honest, he didn't really have a problem with that.

They found their way to the bed. It creaked as their combined weight crashed down onto its worn springs. 2D vaguely knew that he should be feeling guilty right now, that this wasn't right, that he'd made the wrong choice. All he could think about was the heat, and the deep, barely audible groans coming from the back of Murdoc's throat, and the way Murdoc's hand was tangled in his blue hair and it was pulling him back so that he could reach his neck so that he could bite down onto the skin and suck him dry.

Murdoc was hitting that sweet spot inside of him as if he had memorized its exact location. The world was going dark and light and hot and cold and 2D wasn't sure which direction was up or down. There was only Murdoc and his whole body moving in rhythm like the sweetest music. He should hate him for the bruises on his skin but he didn't. He didn't and he wished he knew why he'd forgiven him so easily. Why it was so easy to forget.

And all at once he knew why Yuki had told him that story, and what she'd wanted him to understand. Murdoc was the boy, and 2D was the dog.

It was over too quickly. 2D opened his eyes and saw purple spots at the edge of his vision because he'd been clenching his eyes shut so hard. He felt his whole body jerk as it finally reached that peak, the pleasure mounting in his groin and spilling out onto their bare stomachs. Murdoc buried his face into 2D's neck and bit down on the skin there so hard that 2D was sure he was bleeding. He didn't care. The pain only made the pleasure feel better.

They came down together, but even as his lights went out, Murdoc remembered that their time was done and that this was nothing more than a release. He rolled off of 2D and laid beside him, unable to do much else, and before long 2D was watching him sleep, feeling very much like he'd felt upon first waking up this morning.

Two could play at that game. 2D turned onto his side, ignoring the stab of pain in his gut and staring out the window. He could hear the blood pumping in his ears, and his whole body must have been red. He tentatively unlatched the window and pushed it open, ever-so-slightly, letting a slight, cooling breeze into the room.

He was the dog. Kicked, abused, yelled at. Murdoc was the kid who hurt him. 2D wondered if Yuki knew anything about Murdoc's father, or if that had just been a lucky guess. Knowing her, she probably came to the conclusion that Murdoc was abused as a child right when she first looked at him.

Was that why 2D had let him get away with this? Because he felt sorry for Murdoc? Or was he really so powerless, that he didn't think he could fight back unless it was for someone else's sake? Was it more courageous to let the lion eat him, or to die defending another sheep?

He didn't want this. He didn't want to have to think so hard about things that were pointless. The only things that mattered in life were love and music, and Murdoc wasn't going to give him either.

He fought so hard to stay facing the window, but he couldn't help himself. He shifted, twisting back around so he could face Murdoc. The bassist was sleeping, his face emotionless, yet peaceful. One of his arms, the one closest to 2D, hung down by his side. Every other part of him was facing away, as if trying to ignore the fact that he was even there.

The rain outside started up again, and a few stray drops splattered onto 2D's bare back, making him shiver. Instead of closing the window, he just scooted closer to Murdoc. The bassist had so much fire trapped within him, so much anger, that he never seemed to get cold. 2D imagined that was one reason he always walked around without a shirt on.

2D thought of the puppy in Yuki's story when he looked down at Murdoc's hand. Was it just him or did it seem almost... inviting? Was there really a part of Murdoc that felt shame? Was there a spec of guilt within him? Did he even  _want_  forgiveness?

2D reached for Murdoc's hand, entwining their fingers gently enough so that he wouldn't wake him. Murdoc didn't move, but 2D felt his fingers give a slight twitch, and he understood the unspoken apology.

" _It's okay_ ," 2D whispered, a soft smile growing. " _I forgive you._ "


	21. Please Isn't a Command

He had to leave.

The thought hit him after a few good minutes of listening to Murdoc breathing beside him, of staring in wonder at their hands touching without Murdoc jerking away, of dancing his fingers along Murdoc’s open palm – carefully, _so_ carefully – as if tracing the lines in his skin would get him somewhere.

If he kept chasing him, Murdoc would just keep running.

It was like waves crashing on a beach, like a bitter game of tug of war that would never be won. They were always pushing and pulling each other. They always had been, always would be.

It was his turn to pull.

Besides, he was tired of waking up alone and sore, wondering how much of the previous night was real. Wondering what Murdoc meant with every kiss and touch and caress, hoping it was so much more than what it was.

He was sick of dissecting everything, and he knew that if he fell asleep next to Murdoc, the bassist would be gone when he woke up, and 2D would be stuck inside his head, in that cycle of overthinking everything yet again. Murdoc had spent years practicing closing his heart at will, but 2D didn’t have that kind of power.

This time, he would go first. If Murdoc didn’t want anything more than sex, 2D would try to pretend it was the same for him.

He had to.

Carefully, 2D shifted away from the window. He wasn’t really sure why it was so important he didn’t wake Murdoc up before he left, but it was. It _was_ important.

He managed to crawl over Murdoc’s sleeping body and step down onto the carpet beside the bed. For a moment, he was straddling Murdoc, not touching him exactly, but hovering over him, staring down at his bare chest and gently closed eyes. For just that moment, he allowed himself to imagine Murdoc waking up and seeing him. He imagined Murdoc smiling at that. A genuine, real smile, without malice or lust or anything else but happiness.

He wondered if that was even possible.

He pulled the rest of his limbs over Murdoc and finally completed the task of _getting off the damn bed_.

His clothes were strewn all about the room, and it was surprisingly hard to find them all. Bending over to pick them up hurt his arse and lower back, but he powered through it until he found everything.

He got dressed, then turned back to Murdoc. He didn’t have to leave him, did he?

 _We’re all that’s left,_ Murdoc’s voice echoed in his mind. _We need to stick together…_

“Like sticky things…” 2D muttered to himself.

Murdoc stirred slightly, rolling over so that he took up all the space on the bed. 2D shivered, suddenly cold.

 _If I had fallen asleep there_ … thought 2D. If he’d fallen asleep there, Murdoc would be wrapped around him, keeping him warm…

_Keeping me safe…_

Although, it probably wasn’t in his best interest to start associating Murdoc with safety. He was still wearing bandages from yesterday, and his right eye was still slightly swollen. Forgiving him for something that already happened was one thing, but there were things that hadn’t happened yet, that could happen. That _would_.

Wanting to be around someone who beats on you isn’t safety. It’s Stockholm Syndrome.

 _Yes_ , thought 2D, _this time I have to leave him._

He opened the door quietly, and closed it behind him, making no sound but a slight _click_. It was much easier to do than those heavy submarine-looking doors with wheels for doorknobs.

The corridor was just as dark as 2D remembered. He walked with one of his hands running along the wall to make sure he didn’t get lost, and one hand in front of him to make sure he didn’t slam his face into a pole or something.

He wanted to find Yuki, and apologize for ditching her for sloppy sex with a demon. Or, at least make up some lie about suddenly having to go to the bathroom.

For a couple hours. Without telling her.

Yeah, she’d see right through that. Well, with any luck she wouldn’t ask.

2D didn’t have that kind of luck.

Somehow, he found his way back to the hidden doorway in the wall he’d disappeared through, and stumbled into a more recognizable hallway. With only slight hesitation and a minimal amount of worried whimpering, 2D forced himself to walk toward the lift.

 _You didn’t do anything wrong_ , 2D thought to himself. _Okay, well, you_ did _do something wrong. Something horribly, horribly wrong in every possible meaning of the word… But you didn’t do it on purpose! Okay, yes, you definitely,_ definitely _did it on purpose…_

He called the lift absently, trying to think of some kind of excuse, or hell, maybe even a truthful explanation that at least made _sense_. The doors opened with their now familiar _ding_ , and 2D stepped inside. He pressed the button he remembered would take him down to Yuki’s room, both hoping and dreading that she was there.

He watched the heavy metal hatch that was Murdoc’s bedroom door disappear from view as the lift’s door closed. Tearing away from thoughts of Murdoc, he tried to focus on the bigger problem.

Keeping his friend.

 _At least I didn’t hurt anyone_ , he reasoned in his mind.

His backside throbbed in response.

Well, he didn’t hurt anyone _too_ badly.

The lift doors dinged open, and he stepped out onto one of the lower floors where the guest rooms were.

“…that she’s harmless. Come on out from under there!”

2D blinked out of his doomed thoughts and perked up at the familiar voice. Relaxed, genuine, caring. Maybe she wasn’t mad at him after all…

“She has a machine gun in her mouth!” came another voice. Still familiar, but a bit less so than Yuki’s. “Her _mouth_! She’s like a walking, talking weapon! You don’t make peace with weapons!”

Daley, 2D realized. What was he doing out of the tunnels?

“You can make peace with anything,” Yukimi insisted. They were in her room, just down the hall from where 2D was. With a slight gulp, he continued forward. “I promise, she won’t bite.”

“Can you promise me she won’t shoot?” Daley fired back. He sounded terrified. Were they talking about Cyborg?

Who was he kidding? Of course they were. Who the hell else had a machine gun in her mouth?

“She won’t shoot you,” said Yuki. 2D didn’t miss the slight emphasis on the word _you_.

2D gently took hold of the open door’s frame and cautiously peered around the wall. Yukimi was standing in the center of the room, facing Cyborg Noodle, who was standing beside the far wall. Her synthetic hair was parted slightly, and even from the door 2D could see her eyes were trained on Daley, who was hiding under Yukimi’s bed. 2D noticed an open ventilation shaft beside Cyborg, which must have been how Daley came into the room, and was now the escape that Cyborg was keeping him from diving into.

“I-I’m not even supposed to be here!” cried Daley.

“2D?”

2D’s eyes tore away from Daley and focused on Yukimi. She was staring right at him, and the complete lack of malice melted most of the worry 2D had about confronting her. He should have known she wouldn’t be too mad at him, but he supposed he’d come to expect that all of his mistakes, no matter how small, would be met with anger and hostility.

“Hey! Are you alright? What happened? I’d, uh, give you a hug, but I’m in a bit of a pickle here.”

 _What happened?_ 2D could feel the guilt welling up inside of him, threatening to boil over. If it did, he might end up blurting out the truth. Which, as he now realized, probably wouldn’t be that shocking to Yukimi, but she wasn’t the only one in the room.

“We can talk later,” she said for him, so that he didn’t have to ask. As usual, she could read him like a book. “So, have you met Daley?”

“Y-yeah we’ve met,” 2D choked out, almost as uncomfortable as Daley was with Cyborg in the room.

“Then can you tell him Cyborg’s harmless?” she asked.

 _She does have a machine gun built into her mouth, Yuki_ , thought 2D, but before he could voice his opinion, Daley cut in.

“She kidnapped me!” Daley cried from under the bed. His arms were covering the poofy hair on top of his head, as if he were scared the whole world was crashing down on him. “I was gonna work with Murdoc at first, but he said my song was cancelled. But this… this _thing_ didn’t seem to get the memo!”

Wait, a cancelled song? 2D only knew of one. It was the one that started all of this, the song that kept him here, like some kind of magnet, or anchor.

Some kind of sticky thing.

“What song is that?” 2D asked.

Daley blinked, obviously not expecting him to care about such a little detail when the pressing issue was the weaponized android kidnapper before him.

“I-I don’t know,” Daley admitted, “He didn’t say. M-Murdoc just said I… Uh, I think the words he used were that I seemed ‘right for the job’, and that he’d ‘send for me soon’. B-but the next day, he called and said he’d changed his mind. Uh, wait, no. He said he changed his heart, or something like that.”

Was it Broken? The chances were fairly slim. If Murdoc had been working on this album long enough, there could be more than a hundred potential songs written down somewhere, or strummed once or twice on his bass.

Besides, when 2D first saw the music sheet for Broken, it looked just as beaten up as he did. He remembered torn holes in the paper, stains of various sizes and colors, a burn mark or two, and not to mention the whole page looked like it’d been crumbled into a ball and then laid out flat again multiple times.

Broken wasn’t polished, which meant it wasn’t ready to be recorded (as if 2D hadn’t already gathered that from Murdoc’s reaction when he caught him reading it), and maybe it was never intended to be. Why would Murdoc put such an intimate piece of himself out into the world?

The simple answer was that he wouldn’t.

“Please don’t let her get me,” Daley pleaded, attempting to shrink further against the wall underneath Yukimi’s bed. “It’s why I’ve been hiding in the tunnels. She’s been looking for me… I don’t know what she wants, I just want to go home!”

“I won’t let her hurt you,” Yukimi said adamantly. “I promise, okay? But I don’t think that’s what she’s here to do.” She caught Cyborg’s attention with a whistle. “You! Get out of here. Go to the living room.”

2D winced at the tone in her voice. She sounded strong and brave, yes, very brave to face an android that could probably make it rain bullets if you so much looked at her the wrong way, but she also sounded… demanding, _mean_. It didn’t fit her at all, and it made 2D press his back against the doorframe, shrink a little smaller against the cheap metal.

Was the anger in her voice directed at him?

2D’s attention was drawn to Cyborg when she started emitting a slight whirring sound. For a moment, 2D thought she really would make it rain bullets. And yet, after just a moment of processing, Cyborg Noodle, death robot doppelgänger, obeyed Yukimi Nagano, a slight, delicate flower of a woman with a heart of gold and a mind of steel. With a click of her heels and a stiff salute, she marched right out of Yuki’s bedroom, all attention focused on her new mission. Daley was forgotten, which meant he was safe.

Yukimi sighed a tiny huff of relief before turning and bending down to make sure Daley was okay. She helped him out from under the bed and shook his hand.

“My name is Yukimi,” she said with a smile on her lips and in her eyes and every fiber of her being, “And I am sorry we had to meet under these circumstances, but it was nice to meet you anyways. Take care of yourself, yeah?”

Daley shook her hand and nodded. Yukimi turned and walked past 2D out of the room, waving her hand for him to follow her when she passed him. “I want to show you something. Meet me in the living room?”

All 2D could do was nod and pray he hadn’t lost one of the few friends he had here on this island of rubbish.

“2D?” Daley asked, “What happens to me now?”

2D blinked. “Er, what d’you mean?”

“I have no reason to be here,” Daley answered, one of his hands rubbing the opposite arm nervously, “If Murdoc finds out I’m here, I-I don’t know what…”

Daley trailed off, and 2D frowned. For a moment, he swore he was looking at some kind of alternate universe version of himself. They shared more in common than 2D originally thought. Daley was someone who feared punishment on a constant basis. Someone who wasn’t surprised when arguments came to blows.

Someone who feared Murdoc.

“He did that to you, didn’t he?” Daley finally asked, refusing to meet 2D’s eyes. 2D realized Daley was talking about the bandages on his face. He’d already forgotten they were there. He was so used to cuts and bruises that bandages hardly meant anything to him.

“He won’t do this to you,” 2D managed, telling himself he wasn’t lying. But then, it _was_ true 2D had never seen Murdoc hurt someone else. At least, not as badly as he hurt him. “He’s not like that with everyone.”

“Oh,” said Daley, obviously not believing him, or at least not understanding and trying not to pry. 2D couldn’t think of a single person who could even begin to understand the strange symbiosis between himself and Murdoc. They needed each other, yet at every possible opportunity, they tore each other apart.

2D bit his lip, wondering if Murdoc really would beat up someone else as badly as him. He didn’t know the answer to that, and that terrified him.

“We could write a song,” said 2D, speaking without thinking, not for the first time in his life.

“What?”

“I mean, he won’t hurt you if you’re supposed to be here, yeah?” 2D continued, unable to stop himself. “Well, if he ever finds out you’re here, we can just say you ‘n I are writing something for the album.” Murdoc would never allow whatever they came up with to be featured on the album, but it didn’t hurt to lie. “Then he can’t do anything, right?”

“I-I guess,” Daley said. Suddenly the idea took hold, and Daley’s face brightened. One of his rare, fragile smiles broke free. “That… actually sounds pretty great.”

2D could only offer a smile in return. He only hoped his little idea would work, or that Murdoc would never find out about Daley in the first place. But if it did come down to writing a song for Daley’s safety, he’d willingly pay that price.

“Thank you, 2D,” said Daley, smiling softly. “For everything. See you soon.”

2D nodded, and the other singer headed for the vent Cyborg had blocked him from, disappearing into the bowels of Plastic Beach once again.

2D made his way back to the living room, and found Yuki and Cyborg sitting on the couch, facing each other. Yukimi was squinting, and staring into Cyborg’s eyes like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. 2D couldn’t imagine what she _was_ seeing. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing to be seen at all.

“What color were her eyes?” Yukimi asked suddenly without looking up.

“Whose?”

“The girl she was supposed to replace,” Yuki answered, finally looking up at him. “Noodle.”

2D suddenly found it very hard to swallow.

“G-green,” he answered quietly, looking at the ground, at the telly, at anything but Yukimi and the monster Murdoc made, “Her eyes were green.”

“Curious,” said Yuki, looking back into Cyborg’s eyes. “So are hers.”

 _So what_ , 2D thought bitterly, _he makes it look like her and that makes it okay?_

He didn’t say anything.

“I know I scared you back there,” Yukimi said. “I’m sorry. I had to say it like that. She wouldn’t have listened if I asked her nicely.”

She broke her strange gaze with the lifeless imitation again to meet 2D’s own dark, empty eyes.

“Murdoc doesn’t ask permission,” Yuki explained. “At least, not most of the time. He doesn’t say please to her, because please isn’t a command. I figured I had to sound like Murdoc to get her out of there. I don’t think she would have actually hurt Daley, though.”

“Yuki…” 2D started, but didn’t know where to go from there. He tried for an apology. “I-I didn’t… I mean, I… When we…”

Well, there went that idea. He couldn’t even form a thought, let alone get that thought to pass through his lips. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration, and hoping that it might help somehow. But all it did was make his head hurt more than it already did. He hadn’t had a migraine in months but the headaches always came and went. They weren’t as bad, but they made it even harder than it already was to communicate properly.

“It’s okay, 2D,” Yuki assured him. “I don’t take it personally.”

“But I didn’t mean to… I tried… He…”

He knew she didn’t take it personally, even when he was worrying about telling her the truth minutes ago he knew she wasn’t mad at him. But he wanted to justify it either way. He wanted to explain why he chose darkness over light, and why he would do it again, and he wanted to say it without sounding like a disloyal arse.

Yuki stood up from the couch and walked over to him. “Hey,” she said gently, reaching up to rest a hand on his shoulder. “I mean it. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I know, but I hate that he… That I can’t just…” 2D tried, pulling at his hair slightly. His head was throbbing now, but he’d had worse.

“That you can’t just say no,” she finished softly for him, knowing what he was going to say before he did. Again. She reached up, this time with both hands. She gently took hold of his wrists, though she had to stand on her toes to do it, and guided them down from his hair. “You don’t have to beat yourself up over it.”

She was right, of course. He already got enough of that. But he relaxed anyways, not just because of her words, but the look in her eyes as she said them. The throbbing in his head ebbed away.

“Oh, I wanted to show you something,” she said, letting go of his wrists and gesturing for him to follow her back to the couch. “Before Daley popped out of my wall, I was looking into Cyborg’s programming. Or, more like trying to figure out how she works, you know? I’m not exactly an electrical engineer or anything, I was just talking to her, trying to find out what commands she recognizes and stuff like that. But I found something pretty cool. Watch this.”

She turned to face Cyborg again and asked, “Play Feel Good Inc. by Gorillaz.”

Cyborg straightened up at the command. Something clicked, and a whirring sound introduced a small speaker that protruded from the middle of her stomach, right above her artificial belly button. As soon as the movement stopped, the song began to play.

Maseo’s mad laughter filled the room, followed by 2D’s voice singing the first lyrics of the song. And just like that, memories he hadn’t thought about for years dashed out of their disorganized filing cabinets and threw themselves at the front of 2D’s thoughts.

He remembered filming the music video for this. The damp, warm air in the tower was stifling, and the smell of alcohol and sex and perfume was intoxicating. The producers wanted it to feel as real as possible for the cameras, so they’d set it up as this great Gorillaz party, and filmed the results the next day. It was almost like the featured’s party on Plastic Beach but much, much worse. People ended up in piles, draped across each other in a tangle of limbs and body parts.

He remembered the ache in his chest when he realized Murdoc was covered, yet again, in pretty girls who worshipped him. He remembered trying not to let it get to him, and failing.

He remembered looking out the windows and seeing Noodle flying through the sky on an island made of dreams. Their little girl, strumming on her guitar and mouthing the lyrics, the only one left untainted. _Always_ left untainted by whatever horrors came their way.

_Windmill, windmill, for the land,  
Turn forever, hand in hand…_

“She can play any song you ask her to,” said Yuki, pulling him back to the present. “She’s like a living mp3 player.”

“Any song?” 2D asked, more to himself than her. He coughed awkwardly, trying to push the memories away. _Think of a song. Any song. Don’t get lost in your head again._ “How about Narc by Interpol?”

Feel Good Inc. stopped playing, and after a short whirring sound the new song started. A catchy melody flew from the speakers, a hard guitar jumping up and down. The beat followed shortly after, and Paul Banks breathed meaning into the song, tying it all together.

_Touch your thighs, I'm the lonely one  
Remember that last swipe 'cause that was the right one_

2D began to sing along, glad for an excuse to gather his thoughts and stuff them back into their cages. Yukimi didn’t know the song, but she smiled at what she thought was 2D’s enthusiasm and moved her body to the beat anyways.

2D was surprised he even remembered the song in the first place. He vaguely remembered playing it on some radio takeover show years ago, but he hadn’t actually listened to it in quite a while. But like all of his favorite songs, it was stuck in some distant part of his mind, attached to a memory like the best kind of parasite.

 _Oh love, can you love me babe?  
Love, is this loving babe?_  
_Is time turning around?_

The song continued onto the next verse, but Yuki cut it off with another song.

“Play Devil’s Pie by D’Angelo,” she ordered. Ordered, not asked, not requested, because please isn’t a command and Cyborg wouldn’t obey a suggestion.

An entirely different song began to play. Instead of the punk rock sound that had influenced 2D’s music style, a smooth, harmonious beat hummed through the air deliciously. It was closer to something Russel would listen to. A fluid, low bass riff danced sensually with a snare beat, and when the lyrics came, Yuki was ready for them.

“ _Fuck the slice, want the pie_ ,” she sang, harmonizing effortlessly by mixing her own high, feminine voice with the deeper voice of the singers’. Together they made the song sound like the taste of chocolate. “ _Why ask why, till we fry, watch us all, stand in line, for a slice of the devil's pie_.”

She stood up to sway to the beat gracefully as she sang, and shot him a wicked smile. It took 2D a moment to realize she was telling him something with her eyes, and it took another moment to realize what she was saying.

_Show me what you got, 2D. Outdo me, I dare you._

A challenge, huh? She dared to challenge the lead singer of the world-famous band Gorillaz to a sing-off?

2D was not good at many things, which meant he didn’t have much confidence. But one thing he’d realized after so many years in this band, after so many years spent with his biggest critic, was that even the great Murdoc Niccals had not once ever insulted his singing abilities.

This was one challenge she was not going to win.

He smiled his best mischievous, toothy smile to let her know he meant business.

“Play Gangsters by The Specials!” 2D ordered loudly to make sure he was heard over Devil’s Pie.

Cyborg cut the song without hesitation and switched to the desired track. A funky up and down beat boomed from Cyborg’s high quality tummy-speaker, and a look of genuine surprise, which 2D might add was quite satisfying, flashed across Yuki’s face.

“ _Why must you record my phone calls?_ ” 2D sang expertly into the imaginary mic held in his hand, pointing at Yuki dramatically with the other. “ _Are you planning a bootleg LP?_ ”

Yuki’s look of surprise faded into one of bemusement. Her eyes narrowed in mock annoyance at his smugness, but the amused smile on her face was unmistakable.

“ _Said you've been threatened by gangsters,_ ” 2D continued, leaning over his air mic as if he were on stage. He popped back up and sang through his toothy, smug grin. “ _Now it's you that's threatening me!_ ”

“Tonight by Saint Etienne!” Yuki demanded. Cyborg didn’t miss a beat. She cut Gangsters off and switched the track once more.

A violin played what sounded like a sorrowful tune, but within a few seconds it became an electric pop song. Yuki danced around the room, all inhibitions so far gone they may as well not exist. She skipped around 2D in mocking circles as she sang her heart out.

“ _Check my make-up and check my watch again_ ,” she began, “ _I can hardly wait… Play the album and play it all again, I can hardly wait…_ ”

2D let her sing for a minute, the competition forgotten for a brief moment as he was swept away in the music with her. By the time she got to the chorus, she was holding his hands and making him dance with her, and he was so happy to have someone to share songs and secrets and pieces of himself with that he didn’t care he was a terrible dancer. He didn’t care that almost every time he danced with abandon something broke or someone got hurt.

“ _Maybe they'll open with an album track_ ,” Yuki sang, the words much faster than in the verses, “ _Or a top five hit, no turning back. Ooh ooh ooh-oh ooh…_ ”

2D could have danced all day with her, but alas, the competition was still afoot, and so he had to choose his next song to show off with.

“London Calling!” he shouted over the now much louder music. Had it been getting louder with each song? He hadn’t noticed. “The Clash!”

The beat immediately switched in, as if Cyborg had been anticipating another switch. The familiar hard beat slammed into their ready ears, shaking the walls.

“A classic!” he shouted to Yuki just before the first lyrics prompted him to sing. “ _London calling to the faraway towns, now war is declared and battle come down!_ ”

There was no more competition. She’d realized that before he did, and busted out her air guitar to join in, smiling brighter than he’d ever seen her, as ecstatic as he was in their shared moment of blissful sounds. They were both sweating a bit now. Hair fell across their faces, and though it was quite normal for 2D’s untamable blue locks, Yuki’s hair now looked as shabby as his did.

She didn’t seem to care at all.

 _The ice age is coming, the sun is zooming in_  
Meltdown expected, the wheat is growin' thin  
Engines stop running, but I have no fear  
'Cause London is drowning, and I… I live by the river!

Yuki jumped up and down with the beat, now jamming on her air guitar passionately. 2D sang the rest of the song, giving just as much of himself to it as he did with all of his songs while performing.

“ _London calling at the top of the dial_ ,” he sang, finishing the song, “ _And after all this, won't you give me a smile?_ ”

_I never felt so much a'like a'like a'like…_

2D fell to his knees and dropped his invisible mic as the music died away, exhausted. Yukimi collapsed onto the couch, out of breath and laughing hysterically, high on the performance.

Cyborg looked at the both of them like they were the dumbest idiots in the world, and something about it was so strange, so hysterical, that she was showing any sort of emotion for the first time ever, that 2D started laughing too.

Cyborg Noodle cocked her head to the side, just slightly, like a puppy. It was just enough to fool him for a moment. She looked just like her when she did that. Just like the real thing.

2D’s laughter died in his throat. It wasn’t funny anymore.

Yuki sat up and exhaled a long, powerful breath, smiling at Cyborg.

“We should do that more often,” she said through panting breaths, looking over at 2D. She immediately noticed something was wrong when she saw his face. “2D?”

“She’s not her,” he said, his words outpacing his thoughts again. “He tried. I know he tried, but she’s not Noodle.”

Yuki frowned and looked back at Cyborg. At the robot that looked like Noodle, that had her DNA according to Murdoc, but was not and would never be Noodle.

“I know,” was all she could say, but for all of her skills at deciphering people, and reading them like a book, even _she_ didn’t know. Not really. But that was okay. 2D didn’t take it personally.

It was silent for an uncomfortable minute.

“I wonder if…” Yuki mumbled to herself, breaking the silence. She leaned toward Cyborg, who, despite all of their bullshit, was still sitting patiently on the couch.

“What?” 2D prompted, aching for a change of subject.

Instead of answering him directly, she gave another order to Cyborg.

“Play White Flag,” she said, “By Gorillaz.”

Cyborg straightened up slightly, suddenly tense, as if her settings were restored to the original, boring robot girl who didn’t feel anything and didn’t make 2D question everything he knew about her.

“File: White Flag,” Cyborg answered, her emotionless computer voice a bit jarring after what 2D had seen in her minutes before. Was that what Yuki had seen in her eyes? Something _human_? “Encrypted file; please enter password.”

“Password?” Yuki repeated. She furrowed her brows, confused. She glanced at 2D, who couldn’t have looked any better. “So it’s there, it’s just hidden.”

“But it’s not out yet,” said 2D, “It was just recorded a few days ago. It’s not even mastered.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Yuki argued, “Maybe she’s storing a demo, the unmastered recording, or even just lyrics. It could just be all the material he has so far.”

Suddenly, she understood what she was getting at. She thought Murdoc was saving everything they made, as soon as they made it, like when you save five times in a video game just to make sure it’s really saved. She was trying to find the little pieces of the album not yet assembled, and she was looking for them in Cyborg’s memory.

And now that Cyborg had asked for a password, her theory had been all but confirmed. What 2D didn’t know was how she knew Murdoc would store the material in Cyborg in the first place.

“Why would he store the recent stuff in there?” 2D asked her. “Why in _her_?”

Surely there were more convenient places to store the recordings they’d made so far. If they were trapped in her, Murdoc couldn’t master them, couldn’t polish them for the album. Why would he store unfinished songs in a servant robot?

“He thinks something’s going to happen to him,” said Yuki. “She’s a failsafe.”

When she saw 2D’s confused, blank stare, she elaborated. “Haven’t you noticed? He’s always looking over his shoulder, looking out windows like he’s expecting to see someone, or _something_ , heading right for him. I haven’t exactly known him for a long time, so I can’t say how much of that is real and how much is just a side effect of living here for so long, but to me, he seems almost… _scared_.”

Now that 2D thought about it, he _had_ noticed it, he just hadn’t consciously put two and two together. Back when they’d recorded Empire Ants, Murdoc had all but panicked when 2D pointed out the ship on the horizon. When Cyborg had told him they were “friendlies”, Murdoc seemed shocked.

Did that mean he was expecting enemies?

“Anyways, it’s getting late,” said Yuki, “I’m gonna make some food. Do you want anything?”

He told her whatever she made would be great, and she headed to the kitchen to get started. It was nice to have someone who could cook on this godforsaken island. You couldn’t even order pizza here.

As she worked, she hummed a beautiful little melody he’d never heard before. He wondered if it was another one of her favorite songs, or if she just made it up.

He stood up and stretched his long, gangly limbs. After a wide, lazy yawn, his eyes settled on Cyborg, who still hadn’t moved from her spot on the couch. She turned her head to look at him, her green eyes showing slightly through her hair, and pulled the speaker back inside of her tummy.

He still didn’t know how to feel about her.

But there was one good thing about her that he knew now. She stored music, and more importantly, she stored _his_ music. If he could figure out the password, he could look into her files and find out what other songs she had locked away in her memory.

But then, he realized, he didn’t have to know the password. Not if he just wanted to know. If he wanted to hear and see the songs, he’d have to learn the password, but if all he wanted was to know whether or not it was there…

He walked around the couch and sat across from her. Quietly – he wasn’t sure why it was important Yuki didn’t hear him, but it was – he asked her to play the one song that started it all.

Asked, because although please wasn’t a command, he wanted it to be a choice. Asked, because even though she wasn’t human, not entirely, there was something there when he looked in her eyes.

“Play Broken,” he said, “By Gorillaz.”

“File: Broken,” Cyborg answered, “Encrypted file; please enter password.”


	22. Nantes

**Chapter 22: Nantes**

It was late when 2D finally went to bed.

Plastic Beach wasn’t so bad at night, he supposed. When it was quiet, and the plastic wasn’t melting under the sun. When the only light came from the moon and stars above, the only sound from the waves crashing on the beach below.

When it was really quiet like this, when everyone else fell asleep, he could even hear the water flowing over the melded trash. He could hear it catching on wrappers and old broken toys and other forgotten things as if they were rocks on a real beach.

It was the perfect white noise to clear his cluttered head. Pure silence left him aching to fill it, even if he had to fill it with his own thoughts, but the sounds of the ocean were soothing, hypnotic. Sometimes it helped to hit the backspace button in your mind, until all you had was a blank page. It made it easier to come up with new ideas, and even solve problems you didn’t think you could solve.

But more than anything, it just felt good to stop worrying for once.

2D’s eyelids were heavy. With each minute they drooped a little more. He turned to lay on his side and curled up, pulling his knees close to his chest. The blanket he had wrapped around him was a little too thin, but he didn’t want to bother hunting for another one.

He yawned a big, sloppy yawn and finally closed his eyes, succumbing to a deep, fulfilling sleep.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Glasses clinked somewhere in the distance.

2D’s eyes slowly blinked open, but he didn’t move. He was still stuck in that peaceful state between being awake and asleep. For all he knew, it was just a dream.

There was a soft tapping, like someone knocking gently on wood. Shoes, maybe. Boots, walking lazily across a hard wood floor. The kitchen had a hard wood floor, didn’t it?

2D ignored the noises and closed his eyes again. Sleep was more important than socializing, after all. After a minute, the only sounds left were the crashing waves once again.

Then, movement. Feeling. So soft, it would have been the wind, but it wasn’t, because the wind doesn’t stroke the hair out of your face. The wind pushes, but this was a pull.

If he were more awake, his eyes might have flung open, and he might have jerked away, but he was sleepy, probably dreaming, and this felt nice. He didn’t want to scare the feeling away.

And it worked. For a few minutes, fingers ran through his hair, and it was even nicer than the waves on the beach. Someone moaned. It might have been him.

The touch went away, and he knew then that it was just a dream.

“You awake?” asked a familiar voice.

 _Now I am_ , 2D grumbled mentally.

“Mmyeah,” 2D mumbled, rolling over onto his back to look up at Murdoc. “You?”

“Obviously, brainache,” he replied, but it lacked the usual malice. “Couldn’t sleep.”

 _I could,_ 2D thought, but as usual, the snide comment didn’t make its way past his lips.

“Why not?” he asked instead, squinting through heavy eyes to look up at Murdoc. The expression was mirrored. The bassist looked just as exhausted as he was.

“No idea,” he lied. 2D knew it was a lie because the only thing that kept Murdoc from sleeping were nightmares. Everyone in the band knew it, but because they all valued their lives, none of them had ever brought it up in conversation, not even with each other. A silent taboo they all knew about, but never acknowledged.

“Why’d you have to wake me up?” 2D mumbled through a yawn, rubbing his eyes like a sleepy child.

“T’drink,” was all Murdoc said. He held a brown bottle of what 2D presumed was some kind of alcohol in front of his face. 2D leaned away, and Murdoc pulled the bottle back up to his lips, taking a generous gulp. As usual, he didn’t even wince.

Murdoc shuffled over to the sliding glass door and shoved it open, stepping out onto the balcony. 2D stood up from the couch and pulled the blanket around him, holding it tight around him in shivering hands. As usual, Murdoc didn’t seem to feel the cold.

He hadn’t told 2D to follow him, so the singer stayed put. He was pulling, he reminded himself. He couldn’t initiate. If Murdoc wanted him out on that deck drinking with him, he would have to say so.

And thankfully, he did.

“Come out here, ‘D, you look like a damned ghost lurking in the shadows like that.”

2D swallowed, trying to get rid of the dryness in his mouth, and stepped forward.

There were tables under umbrellas all around the deck. The chairs didn’t match, but they all looked the same degree of uncomfortable. Murdoc led them all the way to the end of the deck, right up to the railing, so all they could see before them were the black ocean and the night sky. When 2D took a seat in the chair next to Murdoc, the bassist looked over at him.

"Don't look so glum, face-ache," he grumbled. He handed his bottle to 2D. "There's still enough booze to go around. Soon as we run out of this stuff... _that's_ when we lose all hope. Come on, drink."

2D accepted the bottle and took a swig of the fiery liquid inside. He nearly choked on it, but after a swift clap on the back from Murdoc, he managed to wrangle it down his throat. It burned every inch of the way down.

"What the bloody hell is that?!" 2D sputtered, trying to hand the bottle back to Murdoc. The bassist seemed amused, the corner of his mouth twisting upward. He didn’t take the bottle.

"Rum, among other things," said Murdoc, "I think there's some vodka in there as well."

"You sure it 'ent petrol?" 2D mumbled, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

"No, I'm not." Murdoc chuckled. “You like it?”

“It’s disgusting,” 2D managed. He took another swig anyways. Murdoc laughed at that, and 2D finally handed him back the bottle, unable to keep the small grin off his face. He really did like the way it burned, even if it tasted like the most sterile thing he’d ever put in his body.

After a generous gulp of the mystery alcohol mix and a heavy, satisfied sigh, Murdoc leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, looking up into the night sky.

 _“Well it's been a long time, long time now... since I've seen you smile_...”

2D noticed a small, battered radio near Murdoc's boots. It was painted a sickly shade of yellow, and there wasn't a corner or edge that hadn't been dented in or scratched. Even the antennae was bent at an odd angle. As with most of their crappy belongings, it worked nonetheless.

_“And I'll gamble away my fright... and I'll gamble away my time…”_

"Funny," Murdoc mumbled, almost to himself, "I didn't think we'd ever get a signal out here. Usually I have to use the uber-powerful satellite stuff, but this is just plain ol’ radio."

"Then why bring it out?" 2D asked.

"You never know," Murdoc shrugged. "Works, doesn’t it?"

2D glanced back at the radio, listening to the static-filled transmission of a song he could have sworn he'd heard before.

_“Well it's been a long time, long time now... since I've seen you smile…”_

The music picked up, a soft yet insistent trumpet producing one of the most beautifully sad melodies 2D could ever remember hearing. Sad, but upbeat, like someone pulling the corners of their lips up with their fingers. The song made him tap his foot, but he wanted to sing along to the melancholy lyrics too. He didn’t remember them enough, though.

He wanted to ask about Cyborg. Why she had locked files on her hard drive. What those locked files were. Why one of them was named Broken. But he didn’t want to ruin this strange, sudden moment. Murdoc hadn’t treated him like this since before he was kidnapped. Back when they were still riding the high from Demon Days.

Back when they treated each other like friends.

“ _Nobody raise your voices… Just another night in Nantes…_ ”

“Do you dream, ‘D?”

There was a sound of crashing glass. The song continued with a sound clip from some old movie of a couple arguing in French, but 2D was still stuck on Murdoc’s question.

“Huh?”

“Do you ever have dreams?” Murdoc repeated. 2D stared at the side of his face, but Murdoc made no move to face him. He hadn’t drunk nearly enough yet to let his mask slip.

2D was used to questions like these. And it was always questions about them, rather than confessions about him. Murdoc liked to know more about the people around him than they knew about him.

“Er, yeah, sometimes,” 2D responded. “Why?”

“What do you dream about?” Murdoc asked.

“W-what d’you mean?”

Murdoc gave a short impatient sigh and sat back in his chair. After a short swig of his alcoholic concoction, he elaborated.

“You know, how your brain processes it all,” he said. He gestured out at their view with his empty hand. “All of _this_.”

“The ocean?”

“The _world_ , ‘D,” said Murdoc, surprisingly patient. Surprisingly _tender_. Maybe he’d had more to drink than 2D thought.

2D followed the gesture out into the dark abyss of night. The moon was now hidden behind a thick blanket of clouds, so the only light came from the shimmering stars. All he could think of were contradictions, like how water was blue in the ocean but clear when contained in a glass. Or like how a world famous band and a bunch of other world famous musicians had somehow made their way to the middle of nowhere and were _choosing_ not to leave.

That, and of course the many other things in 2D’s life right now that made him want to tear his hair out in frustration. It was all just so…

“… confusing,” he said finally.

Murdoc chuckled, and 2D remembered that alcohol wasn’t the only thing that could warm his insides.

“I’ll drink to that,” he said.

 _You’ll drink to anything_ , 2D thought, but he couldn’t help but smile.

“ _Well it’s been a long time, long time now…”_

2D tore his gaze away and faced the ocean once more. A chilling breeze made him curl the thin blanket tighter around him. He let out a shaky breath and saw a white puff of air leave his mouth.

“You cold?” Murdoc slurred.

“You’re not?” 2D countered, still shivering.

“I’m never cold,” Murdoc stated matter-of-factly.

“Never?”

“Never,” he repeated. He glanced over at 2D. “Don’t believe me?”

2D shrugged, but it wasn’t too hard to believe Murdoc. About this, at least. It was true he’d never seen the man with a jacket on unless it was for style, and whenever he’d managed to get close enough to the man to touch, he’d never _felt_ cold. 2D had never really got around to asking why. The whole “questionably-human” thing about Murdoc had never particularly bothered him. Up until the point where he’d gone so far as to kidnap him and replace the closest thing Murdoc would ever have to a daughter with a war machine, of course.

 _Then_ it had become a problem.

“Dunno,” he answered honestly, watching Murdoc’s eyes carefully for any sign of aggression. There was nothing there but the slight glaze in his eyes he always got when the alcohol was starting to work its magic. “Why _don’t_ you?”

“Why don’t I get cold? A lot of reasons,” Murdoc said dismissively, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin lazily. 2D could feel him starting to slip away, and remembered that Murdoc probably hadn’t slept a wink all night. That, combined with whatever the hell was in that bottle were working together to knock him out.

It always happened like this. First, there were the nightmares. Sometimes the band members heard them, sometimes they didn’t, but either way, Murdoc would always find one of them. Usually it was 2D, but if he’d brought a girl home or was otherwise occupied, Murdoc would seek out Noodle. Sometimes he’d even manage to wake up Russel.

Then, he’d offer a drink, which wasn’t odd for him to do, but it was always something strong after a nightmare, something that could probably knock out a horse. 2D was probably the only one who ever accepted.

And then he’d slip away like this, finally relaxing after a short while of sitting and drinking and babbling on about life with the only real family he’d ever known. It made him feel safe - they’d realized eventually - knowing that _they_ were safe, that the Gorillaz were still alive and kicking.

Aside from his band, Murdoc didn’t have anything else in his life to count on.

_“Well it’s been a long time, long time now…”_

At least, that’s what _he_ believed.

_“Since I’ve seen you smile…”_

The song ended. After a full minute of silence, 2D stared down at the little radio curiously. To his (quite limited) knowledge, radio didn’t usually play one song and then stop. But since it was nowhere near the strangest thing to happen to him, even if he only counted the past week’s events, he shrugged it off.

They sat in silence for a while, Murdoc staring out into the night trying to forget whatever nightmare had kept him from going back to sleep, and 2D sitting next to him, waiting for him to open up about what was really bugging him.

But he’d been waiting a long time for that, and Murdoc didn’t seem any closer to breaking tonight.

Tired and frustrated, he stood up from his chair and stepped up to the railing. It was the only thing keeping him from falling over into the sea which, from this height, would probably kill him. 2D stared at the rushing waves beneath him, too cold to feel any fear. He could feel the power pulsing through the water with every push and pull, and a tingling, electric feeling in the air.

A misty gust of wind ran through his hair, danced along his skin, raising the little hairs along his exposed arms and neck.

He wondered vaguely if this is what sailors meant when they said they could tell a storm was coming.

“Sometimes,” Murdoc began, his voice low and slurred. “Sometimes I come out here just to wait.”

2D turned around to look at Murdoc and saw that his dark eyes were tracing the horizon. Only now that he looked carefully did he notice they were sweeping back and forth. Slowly, gently, like he was looking for something out on the horizon.

The potent alcohol had seeped into Murdoc’s veins and made it hard to understand him, but 2D had spoken this “drunken Murdoc” language before.

“Wait for what?” 2D asked.

Murdoc chuckled, but it wasn’t the kind that made 2D smile, that filled him with the same burning warmth that came from a generous gulp of booze. It was the kind of chuckle that broke 2D’s heart, that made him curl tighter in his blanket, chilled him to the bone.

2D walked back over to the chair and sat down, facing Murdoc but curling up in the thin blanket.

“For what, Muds?” he asked quietly.

Murdoc looked down at the drink in his hands, his dark hair falling over his face to cover most of his eyes. He stared down to the bottom of the bottle, watching his favorite poison slosh back and forth like waves on the shore of a much smaller, sadder world.

“The other half,” answered Murdoc, lifting his glazed eyes to sweep once more across the ocean. Back and forth, back and forth, push and pull…

 _The other half?_ 2D wondered. And then it clicked.

 _Murdoc’s_ other half.

Suddenly, 2D was cold. But it wasn’t like the cold he’d felt from the wind. This cold cut right through his chest, like a spear made of ice. It was not the kind of cold a blanket could fix.

And worse than the cold was the pain. A feeling of emptiness that would never be filled, because the spear had ripped a part of him out when it stabbed through his heart.

He had become used to this pain years ago, but he would never be immune. No matter how many times you stab yourself, it still hurts every time.

He knew there had been someone that had kept Murdoc tethered to his humanity. It was the reason his lyrics were so sincere, why he was writing love songs for an album about a plastic beach, and why his music sounded like it came from the highest place any human could ever be.

But now, it was all but confirmed. There was someone out there that Murdoc missed enough to write music for; someone that he loved so much he came out here sometimes just to sit and wait for her, hoping she would come back to him.

Hoping that maybe, someday, he wouldn’t be so fucking broken.

“Who did you write it for?” he choked out, trying not to sound too pathetic.

“What?” asked Murdoc, finally looking over at him.

“Who did you write Broken for?” he asked again.

Murdoc stared at him, eyes hardened at the mention of Broken but too drunk to care. But more than anything, he seemed confused.

“It’s too romantic,” 2D continued, wanting to stop but hoping that with elaboration, Murdoc would laugh it off and tell him what he really meant. That 2D was just being stupid again and that he wasn’t writing music for some lost lover. “The lyrics… A-and especially for someone like you. I-it just…”

Murdoc raised an eyebrow, his eyes still hard, unblinking.

“I-I mean,” 2D started, curling up defensively. An angry Murdoc was scary, but manageable. Quiet Murdoc was a shark in dark water. “I just mean… You’re not the type to fall for someone…”

Murdoc blinked, and suddenly the hard, confused staring turned into something else. He furrowed his brows like he was trying to work something out. What puzzle did Murdoc see in him? Was he looking for a way out of 2D’s maze of words? If there was a way, 2D certainly couldn’t find it.

Finally, Murdoc sat back fully in his chair and looked down at the drink in his hands, swirling the liquid inside absently.

“Anyone can fall in love, ‘D,” was all he said.

And there it was. Before now, 2D could have been wrong. He knew it in his gut but there was still that possibility. Now though, it was fact. Murdoc himself admitted it.

He was writing Plastic Beach because of love.

“Who is she?” 2D asked again, quieter.

Murdoc stared at him again, the same puzzled look on his face as before. This time, Murdoc changed the subject.

“When did this become twenty questions, faceache?” he asked.

2D watched as Murdoc drained the rest of his bottle. After setting it back onto the small table between them, he finally rolled his head to look over at 2D.

Murdoc wasn’t going to answer him. But would it matter if he did? What good would knowing her name do him?

“Tired?” 2D asked carefully.

“M’never tired,” Murdoc slurred, smirking.

“I thought you were never cold?” 2D countered, raising an eyebrow.

“M’never anything, ‘D,” he mumbled, waving his hand dismissively. “But I guess everyone’s gotta sleep sometime, yeah?”

“W-wanna go back?” 2D stuttered, chilled to the bone.

It was the burn of alcohol swimming down your throat, staring into those dark eyes. And they _were_ dark, even if they weren’t filled with blood like his own, there had always been so much more darkness in Murdoc’s eyes than 2D’s.

“Sure, mate.”

They made their way back inside in silence. 2D held the blanket around him like a cape, burying his lower face against the relatively soft fabric. He was exhausted, and he would have given almost anything to crawl back onto the couch and curl up under the blanket, to let himself drift back off into the blissful emptiness of sleep.

But of course, Murdoc would have none of that.

“You’re staying with me tonight.”

2D paused, staring at the bassist’s bare back.

“Why?” he asked.

“I don’t want you catching a damn cold, that’s why,” he said, grabbing 2D by the shoulders and pushing him down the hall towards his room.

“I’m not cold!” 2D lied.

He realized as soon as the words left his lips that it wasn’t a very convincing lie, considering he was still shivering and holding a blanket tight around him. Embarrassed, he dropped the blanket, hoping it would prove his nonexistent point.

But Murdoc was ready for that. As soon as the blanket was gone, he wrapped his arms around 2D from behind, holding him close to his bare chest. 2D could barely register his surprise and the rush of emotions that would have bombarded him had he not already surrendered to the bliss of warmth the bassist provided.

“Oh…” he moaned, then immediately clamped a hand over his mouth, a new warmth blossoming on his cheeks.

“Thought so,” Murdoc said gruffly, releasing 2D and stumbling ahead to open his bedroom door. “Come on, then. I’m doing you a favor, you know.”

2D had a feeling he knew how this would end. The situation was all too familiar. Him, Murdoc, a bed… He’d probably wake up tomorrow morning in an empty bed with a sore arse. Or if not tonight, it would happen tomorrow morning, and he’d spend the day walking funny.

But at least he’d be warm.

2D stepped over the blanket and into a new, brighter warmth. A warmth that might very well have something to do with hellfire, but a brighter warmth nonetheless.

“Thanks, Muds.”

Exhausted, Murdoc could only grunt in response. Despite his lethargy, he expertly disappeared into the darkness of his room, stepping easily over piles of dirty clothes strewn about the floor. He shoved his blankets out of the way before collapsing onto his bed, and for a moment he was perfectly quiet and still. Just as 2D started to wonder if he’d already fallen asleep, Murdoc proved him wrong.

“Faceache,” he growled. “Get over here.”

“E-er, right,” he mumbled awkwardly, stepping over the dirty clothes and almost falling over onto the other side of Murdoc’s bed.

And then he sat there, tucking himself under the covers Murdoc never really needed, warming up by the second, and wondering what exactly he was supposed to do.

Sleep, probably. But unlike Murdoc, he wasn’t wasted. He would remember Murdoc’s words the next morning. He would remember the cold pain in his chest. How could he sleep after that bombshell?

_Anyone can fall in love, ‘D._

Biting his lip, 2D turned on his side and stared at Murdoc’s back. Always turned away from him, even if they shared a bed.

Even if they shared their bodies.

He felt another stab of pain, not as powerful as earlier, but still very much present. He curled into a tight ball, hugging his knees to his chest and holding back a choked sound.

Just hours earlier, he was falling asleep to the sound of the waves, letting go of all of this pain and tension, but now it was all coming back, hurting worse than before because now he knew it was all true, and he was right back to where he started – no, where he’d _been_ ever since he saw those forsaken lyrics.

How could he love someone so vile when they didn’t even love him back?

 _Stop it_ , he begged his mind, _please stop it!_

“Better, ‘D?”

2D opened his eyes at the sound and saw colors flying in his vision (since when had he closed them so tight?).

“What?”

“Are you _warmer_?” Murdoc growled, too tired to deal with 2D’s lack of brainpower.

Murdoc’s bed was big, probably a king size, so there was plenty of space between them. Even still, 2D could feel Murdoc’s unnatural warmth radiating from him like a furnace, and he had a feeling that even without the blankets, he would still be able to warm up just as well.

“Y-yeah,” 2D answered. Murdoc chuckled.

“Told you.”

_Nobody raise your voices…_

If he did, the spell would be broken. They’d go back to fighting or fucking, like they did, like they might _always_ do. But tonight was different. Tonight was familiar and foreign at the same time. Cautious and reserved, but also comfortable and… _hopeful_.

For the first time after Murdoc’s confession, 2D felt the cold pain slip away until it finally disappeared.

Why should he worry? Why should he hurt? _He_ was the one sleeping in Murdoc’s bed, the one Murdoc woke up when he needed company to drown the fear his nightmares brought him. Even if the sex didn’t mean anything, there was a stronger connection between them than just that. They had _years_ on each other. 2D had never been this close to a person in his entire life, and maybe…

Maybe that was the same for Murdoc.

Murdoc’s confession had changed nothing. If anything, it’d given 2D more reason to try.

Whoever this mystery woman was, she wasn’t going to take Murdoc away from him.

He wouldn’t let her.

_Just another night in Nantes…_


End file.
